Figure of Sheherazade
by ElricKeyblade
Summary: A sultan's broken heart, which led to him killing many....does it have a chance of being healed by a young blondhaired woman, or will he have her killed just like the rest? A story of how stories can change lives...and hearts. AU and Semicrossover
1. Prologue: The Situation At Hand

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries.

**Prologue: The Situation At Hand**

The sound of weeping filled the air. Footsteps sounded as they approached the sultan.

Throwing the door open, the soldiers found him reclining on his throne while being fed by servants. Smiling, the vizier stepped forward and bowed.

The sultan sat up, his golden hair falling loosely across his shoulders. "Yes, my vizier? You do have news for me, correct?"

"Yes, your honor." The vizier's eye patch glinted as he slowly looked up. "We finally found another one." Stepping to the side, he revealed his men to be holding a sobbing woman no more than twenty or twenty-one, at the most. She trembled violently in fear and faint disgust as the sultan's gaze rested upon her, no matter how handsome the young man looked.

He looked away and fixed his golden eyes on the vizier once more. "Very well, vizier. You did a good job in finding her. Have her taken to the women's quarters to be prepared."

"Of course, your majesty." The woman sobbed even harder as she was taken away by the soldiers.

That morning, everyone in the kingdom shuddered as they heard the wedding bells sound from their sultan's palace, most spitting out curses as they went on with their business.

Fear was, in fact, the kingdom's true ruler.

A/N: Well...my first story. PLEASE DON'T FLAME ME... I'm begging you. By the way...could you also tell me what you think? Oh yeah, about the "Hair falling loosely across his shoulders part"...I've always liked Ed's hair loose. xP Anyways, please review!


	2. Chapter 1: Introductions

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries.

A/N: I sort of organized this chappie a bit more...you know, put the dividers in-between and stuff. Don't flame!...please ;) 

**Chapter 1: Introductions**

The birds chirping their sweet morning serenades were drowned out by the woman's loud sobbing as she pleaded for her life. Alas, it was to no avail as the young sultan affixed her with a gaze that held no remorse for what was happening at the moment.

Surrounded by executioners, the woman cried loudly in vain from her bound position on the wooden table. Her head was forced down upon the deep red bloodstains that ornamented its wood. One of the executioners nearest her head slowly raised his axe high above him. He hesitantly looked over to the sultan, remorse apparent in his eyes instead.

Face propped upon his chin, he slightly nodded with a faint hint of malice growing in his eyes. "Do it," he said coldly.

Taking a deep breath, the executioner looked down at the woman sadly for the last time. He then shut his eyes and quickly brought the axe down as the sultan steadfastly watched.

The room was no longer filled with dreadful screams.

One of the executioners, sickened, turned and looked away.

* * *

The blond-haired woman stood up and dusted her hands off after a long night of hard work.

"Winry!" a voice cried.

Turning around in response, the blonde looked to see a young female her age running towards her on strongly-built metallic legs. She smiled upon recognizing her best friend.

"Paninya! How's everything going? Did you get some money off that new job today?" She walked away from her worktable and stood out from under the shade in the blaring sun, hands on her hips.

Paninya grinned. "Well of course, you know that _everyone_ loves our flowers," she replied semi-cockily. "They're the rarest in the whole region!" She held up a fistful of coins. "I think this should cover our food expenses for the next two weeks."

"Really? That's great!" Food had become a bit more expensive lately, and Winry was starting to worry that the two of them wouldn't have anything to eat for a couple of days, though her business itself wasn't too slow. She walked back to her worktable and bent over it. Turning around, she held up a finely-designed metal leg, its bright sheen sparkling in the bit of light that had slipped through the thin cloth overhead. She smiled with utmost glee. "I finally finished that order that came in last week. I've been working all night to get this thing done. Looks like we're both getting money this week. Lucky break, huh?"

"You bet it is, Win!" Paninya enthusiastically replied. Her smile, however, soon faltered as Winry turned back to clean up the mess she had made while working. "Win...?"

She looked up. "Yeah?"

"Don't you think we should just...leave? He killed his most recent bride today."

Winry stiffened, then eased her face into one of calm. "Pan, you know I can't do that. There are other people depending on me. If I leave, then they wouldn't be able to," she said softly.

Paninya frowned slightly at this, but then grinned yet again. "Yeah, that's true. You're always thinking of other people, Winry."

Winry simply grinned and went back to cleaning off her worktable. The twenty-one-year old soon began frowning herself as she contemplated over what she had just said.

Yes, she remembered that day. The day everything had changed.

It was about one-and-a-half years ago. The sultan had found himself a beautiful sultana the previous year, which was good for him, seeing as how his mother had died two years before that. Winry remembered sympathizing with his deep grief over her death, seeing as how she knew what it was like to lose her parents; his father had died when he was eight. Yes, it was good that he had found himself a wife to cherish and cherish him in return, and to help him get rid of the sadness that still lingered in his heart after his mother's death. However, it was not really his first wife- his previous wife had been executed for horrifying infidelity a couple of months after his mother passed away. Everyone was hoping that his new wife would be able to heal both of these gaping wounds that had filled his heart.

But life has her own little plans for those that she sees fit. And sometimes, they're not the good kind either.

It all started when his brother Alphonse from the neighboring kingdom came for a surprise visit. The sultan was extremely delighted with this, as their bond as brothers was stronger than steel. He pompously welcomed him and enthusiastically invited him to stay for as long as possible. His brother readily agreed, and his visit was prolonged to about three weeks.

During that time, however, he accidentally came across something quite troubling in his brother's palace. While walking past a garden hedge one day, he thought he saw something questionable through one of the peepholes that dotted the bush. Not believing what he had just glimpsed, he looked through the peephole more carefully to check.

There, in the garden, was his brother's wife, cheating with one of the menservants...and in the disgusting way, too.

Revolted, he had hesitated to tell his brother what he had seen, but eventually revealed it to him in private. Needless to say, his brother was furious. He demanded that they keep watch where this took place, and went there himself the next day to see if this information could actually be confirmed. When the sultan saw his wife there with one of his menservants...

He had an execution ordered. No, two. Both his wife and the manservant were beheaded for their disgracefulness. It was from there that he had made his dreadful statement.

"There is no woman left in this world that is to be trusted. Therefore, I will not be married long enough to be betrayed ever again."

Alphonse had said nothing. His brother's heart was completely shattered from his wounds, and there was nothing that he could say. However, he soon saw the true meaning behind his brother's words.

"The sultan has decreed that every morning, he shall marry a new virgin. By next morning, he shall behead her and marry anew," the sultan's messengers proclaimed through the streets.

Most people were pretty much confused by all this, and therefore paid no heed to what they didn't understand. The few smart ones, however, got their virgin daughters and escaped in whatever way they could.

The next day, the sultan sent out his soldiers to find him a suitable virgin to marry. True to his word, when they found one, he married her that very day. The next day she was beheaded. This continued day after day, even after Alphonse left to his own kingdom with the words, "Brother, don't lose yourself."

The people, now fully realizing the horrors of the sultan's new order, started to develop ways of thwarting him. For example, mothers would maim their daughter's legs or arms, making them unfit for marriage; this is where Winry's business came in. Though the sultan held no exception for women with automail parts, it usually took years for them to recuperate from the surgery. By that time, their families would have helped them escape the kingdom, never to return. Winry was one of the few automail dealers in the city, and though this would have meant profitable business, there were **many** more desperate women, especially those among the poor, that decided to take a much sadder route- the brothels. It is quite obvious that not everyone was able to sacrifie their limbs for freedom. Usually, she just got enough to put food on her plate plus materials for her business.

Paninya had lost both of her legs in an accident seven years ago. Winry wasn't the one who had put those automail legs on her, but after Paninya's mechanic mysteriously disappeared three years afterwards, she was the one who did her regular checkups, becoming her best friend in the meantime. Since she was also an orphan with nowhere to go, they started to live together and support each other instead.

Though many of the people cursed their sultan daily for their troubles, everyone knew that it was because of him that their land was flourishing. He and his brother were especially gifted in alchemy, a science developed by their ancestors decades ago. It was through this science that they revolutionized their kingdoms' economy and kept their lands in peace, as it was also taught to a select few of their soldiers as well. Not only that, but the brothers were both geniuses, possessing well-crafted minds far beyond their age level. It was only in his current decree that the sultan had erred.

What if his heart was restored to him again...? Though Winry hated him just like the rest of the kingdom, she still remembered how emotionally wounded he was said to be after his precious mother had left this world.

Nowadays, the lack of virgins had gotten so bad that it took up to a month at the least to find one. Paninya and Winry were only able to escape the scrutiny of the soldiers because their shelter was situated at a far, deserted corner of the city, and much too rundown to even think of searching. However, Paninya had a point- the way things were going now, the soldiers may be desperate enough to look in a place like this.

She shook her head. No, running away now just isn't an option. Not when there were people depending on _her_ to escape. And though she had insisted over and over for Paninya to leave for her own safety, she had stoutly refused due to her loyalty.

Finished with her cleaning, she straightened up and stretched with her arms behind her back. "So, Paninya," she said, "what do you want for dinner?"

* * *

The fire that they had built flared warmly as they ate the rest of their dinner. Their faces were filled with contentment- Winry had done her cooking perfect as usual, even with the sorely limited amount of cooking ingredients. It was another perfect, secluded night.

Then why did she feel so...apprehensive?

"Something wrong, Paninya?" Winry slightly frowned. "You keep looking behind you as if someone's going to appear any minute now."

Paninya quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Must be a rat."

Winry sighed. "Yeah, they just keep coming and coming." She stood up and yawned. "Oh well, I guess I'll be getting some sleep then. 'Night."

"Good night." Paninya's smile, though, faded as Winry walked towards her cot underneath the makeshift shelter. Was she just imagining things? Yeah, maybe she was.

Dismissing her thoughts, she simply looked around the place she and Winry called home. They had erected a large cloth over a piece of a crumbling hut for a roof; they were still trying to find more wood pieces long enough to place on top of that. In the shelter were two cots for Winry and herself, along with a worktable for Winry's business.

And growing to the far left, in the part that opened this part of the city to the desert that surrounded it all, were the moonbuds. They were extremely rare; they only grew in desert sand and opened during a full moon. After that, they just closed up and looked like thin, withering pods of ugliness. However, they were unbelievably picky about the sort of place they bloomed in, thus the reason for their rarity. It was these flowers that she sold at the markets during the day.

Paninya stifled a yawn. Maybe she should go to bed too. Throwing sand over the fire, she slowly walked over to her own cot. Right before she disappeared into the shelter, she looked over her shoulder once more.

There was nothing, nothing at all.


	3. Chapter 2: Startling Events

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries.

A/N: I would like to thank **Cerulean-San** and **Larie-chan** for being my first two reviewers! Thanks, you guys!

...This chappie may not seem too great... Please stick with me on this one, I really did try my best to make this chappie go along the path it should go...Personally, I think that my future chappies are better, but please read and review...and without flaming, too, please. ;)

**Chapter 3: Startling Events**

Voices floated in and out, murmuring at one interval and wholly speaking at another.

"Do you think that she's qualified? I mean, she is out on the streets..."

Qualified...?

"She doesn't hold the look of one that did such a thing yet...neither does the other one."

Wha...?

"And they're both his age, too...whoa, we should have thought of looking here for the sultan's wives long ago. They don't look half bad."

"You're right. Especially this one..." And something very light fingered her hair.

Who...wait ...

The chattering lowered for a minute.

Sultan...sultan's _wives_?

Her eyes shot open, right into those of two very startled men in soldier garb.

Soldiers...

Winry suddenly sucked in her breath.

_No_.

She shot out of bed and backed up in the direction of her work table. "Who are you?! What do you want with me?!" Her voice poured over with obvious fear.

"Now, now, don't panic." One of the men raised up his hands to attempt in calming her down. "We're going to take you to a much better place than this, okay?"

"A better place? Do you think I'm stupid?!"

"Winry...what...?" Paninya's head sleepily rose up from her cot. "Who are...they..." Her voice faded along with her sleepiness as she suddenly realized exactly _who_ were in their home.

"Oh great, now the other one's awake too. I told you we should have just bagged 'em and left, but no, you had to confirm first!" one soldier shouted.

"Well, you never know, it's always better to be on the safe side!" the other soldier exclaimed in defense.

"Shut up!" A woman's voice cried, and a soldier suddenly took a speeding object to the head.

"What the- What was that?!" The other soldier looked at the direction the object came from, only to see the blonde he had "inspected" earlier raise her arm in a throwing position.

"Leave. Now." She spat.

"Look, miss, don't-" No more words left his mouth as he was effectively knocked out as well by a speeding screwdriver.

"Hey, you guys got the- whoa, what are you-" another soldier that had come in was now on the ground next to a set of pliers.

"Paninya, come on. We have to get out of here!" Winry quickly scooped out the rest of the tools- which amounted to two- from her toolbox as she spoke and handed a screwdriver over to Paninya, who quickly accepted it.

They both made a run for it through the entrance. Outside, they found a little over half a dozen soldiers standing there, all behind a smiling man with a patch over his right eye.

"Now, now, girls," he started with an easy tone, "don't do anything that could hurt yourselves. The sultan would not appreciate his wives getting bruised."

"Shut up!" Winry shouted again; her panic was strangely emboldening her. "Go back to wherever you came from, you stupid pieces of-"

"And he would not appreciate such words coming out of the mouth of his future bride as well. Get them," the man commanded in a stern voice.

Immediately, the seven men surrounded them, ready to advance. But even while staring back with a face filled with rage, Winry still saw, and was for a moment touched, by the sadness that lingered deep in each of their eyes... As they closed in on her and Paninya, however, she steeled herself for resistance. No matter what happened, she would never give up without a fight.

Without warning, she suddenly placed her arm behind her head, aimed, and catapulted her wrench towards the head of the nearest soldier- all in the amazing time period of three seconds or less. He went down without a sound.

Following her example, Paninya hurled her screwdriver into the head of another soldier, and as he went down, kicked the next one coming after her- hard. He fell and didn't move from the spot he now lay on.

Standing back to back with Winry, she smirked. "There's four left. Thinking what I'm thinking?" Winry simply gave a short nod in agreement.

Swiftly, they separated and made a run for it through the many alleyways that surrounded them.

"After them!" a soldier cried.

* * *

Paninya laughed as two of the soldiers followed after her. "Catch me if you can!" she called out. 

She expertly and effortlessly ducked and flipped over the many obstacles that she knew would hinder these paths, using up almost no energy at all. When she stopped and looked back at the men panting several feet behind her, she couldn't help but smirk. It felt so good to have metallic legs.

As she turned around, however, she was suddenly knocked hard on the head, causing her to fall to her knees. As her world turned dark, she saw the man with the eye patch, sword drawn.

_How_...?

* * *

Winry was not faring as effortlessly as Paninya. 

Having real legs instead of mechanical ones meant more energy being used up. But since she practically knew this place like the back of her hand, she had an advantage to go along with that disadvantage.

She ran to the left when she reached a fork in the path, knowing full well that the right one led straight to a dead end. The men following her were just turning the corner when she dove straight into a hole in one of the walls, which was hidden by piles of junk and garbage.

"Hey! Where'd she go?!"

"I dunno, its like she disappeared!"

Though safe for the moment in the deserted building that had been right next to the alley, Winry barely breathed. Any unwanted sound, and the soldiers would be onto her like dogs on a bone.

There was only one problem though. She was quite sure that Paninya had taken the route that also led to this building. Since she had legs made entirely of automail, she should have been here a long time ago. Where was she?

As Winry worriedly contemplated over this, she suddenly heard a new voice alongside those of the two soldiers'. "At ease, gentlemen. What happened to the girl?"

"We're...not entirely sure. This alley looks empty, but we're pretty sure that we saw her turn this corner."

"Then that means she must still be in the area." The man with the eye patch looked around.

"Listen, girl," he called out. "You may be safe for the moment, but your unfortunate friend here isn't."

"Win...get away," a voice groaned raspily. She gasped. _'Paninya!'_

"If you step out of wherever you're hiding, I promise that no harm will come to her."

"Sir...you don't mean..."

"We can't kill her, she's a candidate for a sultan's wife!"

Without hearing anymore, Winry hurriedly stepped out of her hiding place. She saw Paninya held up by her short hair, a scimitar held to her throat. Her breathing quickened out of fear. "Don't hurt her," she pleaded.

He smirked considerably. "Smart choice, young lady." The soldiers moved forward and went on either side of her, each taking a firm hold on one of her arms.

"You two!" the leader shouted out to two more soldiers that had caught up with them; supposedly Paninya's pursuers. "Take care of the ones that had fallen. We'll take these two to the palace." Saying so, he easily flipped Paninya over his back and headed towards his destination.

Winry bent her head in despair as they led her to her inevitable doom.

* * *

The doors to the sultan's audience hall stormed open. 

"Your majesty, we have _very_ good news tonight."

"...Two brides in one finding, Grand Vizier Bradley? You outdid yourself this time."

Winry, whose head was facing down at the floor, slowly raised it to see the owner of the voice that had just spoken.

There, before her very eyes, was the man who would kill her.

The sultan.

He was seated on his throne, legs crossed, and with his head propped upon his fist in an almost nonchalant manner. His eyes, she could see, were the color of burnished gold, and his hair, which fanned across his shoulders, was a golden blonde. His whole body was covered in full robes and trousers befitting one of royal rank. Winry was quite surprised to see that his right hand was one of metal- and poorly designed in comparison to some of her own works, she couldn't help but note.

Though she hated to admit it, especially since she was in the situation she was in right now, she subtly acknowledged that her "murderer" was quite handsome, even with what appeared to be an automail hand.

"Yes, Sultan Edward, we were quite lucky this time," continued Vizier Bradley. "However, these two gave us quite a hassle. There are about five unconscious men that are still being tended to."

"Really..." Sultan Edward glanced at Paninya, who was barely regaining consciousness, and then turned his gaze on her. Winry glared back at him defiantly as their eyes locked. The sultan slowly narrowed his eyes, then broke away.

"Seeing as how the other one is mainly unconscious, I'll marry this one first." He pointed at Winry. "Have her prepared by the servants. I'll just have the wedding tonight."

The servants took her away.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. I hope this chappie wasn't hopeless or anything, and...please review:) 


	4. Chapter 3: Marraige In Haste

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries. I also do not own any crossovers that will appear in this and future chapters...dude, I don't even own TEN DOLLARS (in my wallet, at least).

Author's Note:

**Wholly**- **Completely and entirely: totally and in every way or to the fullest extent.** Source: Encarta Dictionary Online

...So, yes, **Larie-chan**, the word 'wholly' does exist. Thanks for being concerned about my writing performance, though. It's quite touching, and I deeply appreciate it.

Anyways, I am also deeply sorry about the late update. You see, I had finals, and...yeah, they were on the top of my priority list this week. Turns out they ended yesterday, but when I tried to update something went wrong and bleh...well, at least it's up here today! XP

**IMPORTANT INFO ON WHAT'S COMING UP:**

Okay, this is where the crossovers will start coming in. Not all of them will necessarily be anime, but a good majority of them will be. If you don't like that particular anime/book/video game/movie/whatever else may come up, I beg you to please bear with me and the story and just skip that part and move on with the rest of the storyline...please? ;)

Also, you may have to wait a while for the REALLY romantic stuff to happen. Don't worry, they'll come all right, but I believe that in this type of situation, love will take a long time to surpass fear. Please don't be too upset by this.

**EVEN MORE IMPORTANT INFO:**

...I NEED HELP. This may sound kinda lame, but I'm starting to get a slight writer's block. If you have any solid ideas for the continuation of this plot, they will be greatly appreciated. Please take note that they may not be fully used or may not immediately appear in the next chappie- I will just draw whatever I can from whatever I get.

Whew, that's a mouthful. Here's the chappie!...Hope it's not too lame (not too much self-confidence here).

...**By the way, thank you everyone for your previous reviews. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Marriage In Haste...**

She was dressed beautifully in silky garments of rich purple. Her hair, lavishly wound with amethysts, shone like pale sunshine from the amount of times the servants had brushed it.

"You look perfect," one of the older maidservants said encouragingly, though her smile didn't reach her eyes.

In fact, hardly any of the servants even wore a smile. Winry was surprised that one of them actually decided to talk to her. All they had done so far was follow the sultan's orders, and most didn't even try to hide the mixed look of dread and acceptance on their faces. It was as if they were going through an assigned routine in preparing a sultan's wife- a routine that, regrettably, may never end.

She tried hard to control the fiercely constricting sensations that pulled and tugged mercilessly at her heart, but to no avail. No matter how much she attempted, she just couldn't come face to face with the fact that she was going to die.

The room seemed to hold its breath as another maidservant ran in. She looked sullen.

"The sultan said that it is time."

Winry held back a sob of hopelessness as the servants rushed her towards the king- and her death.

That night, wedding bells chimed.

* * *

Slowly, he climbed the stairs to his room. He slightly shook his head to remove the damp hair that clung to his face after his bath. The aroma of cloves and cinnamon stuck to his skin and hung around him much more pleasantly than his private thoughts. 

Yet another bride was bound to him tonight- only to die the next morning. He shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance as he reached the top step.

His face marred into a slight, contemplative frown as he walked on towards his room. He guardedly reminisced his new wife's defiant stare the first time they had gazed into each other's eyes. He didn't really see that obstinacy as they were being married, though- just despair. No, the thing about her that had amazed him was...

She had blatantly refused to cry.

Even though she knew she was going to die, even when anguish had clouded her features, he didn't see a tear or even a trace of one that may have slid down her face in private. It was as if she had found a way to rebel against him- at least silently. After all, she was the only one of his brides that didn't cry at their weddings after he had taken his oath. One or two of the small group of officials that had attended even shot each other faint glances of surprise. 'Perhaps she is different?' they almost seemed to say.

The sultan opened the door to his room.

There she was, kneeling on the bed, her hands held in tight fists on her lap. She quickly looked up as she heard the door creak open. Her eyes, though radiating fear, had regained some of their fire. Well, it was much more preferable than having her blubber throughout the night; he had gotten tired of hearing the sniveling cries of his brides as he tried to get in some sleep.

He stepped in, and they both stared into each others' eyes yet again as he closed the door and darkness overtook them. Her look abruptly turned into one of an outright glare, as though a sudden thought had just hit her. He felt his eyes slowly reduce themselves to mere slits in return.

"Shouldn't you already be in bed?" he spat out suddenly.

He noticed how her eyes widened as the fact that they were actually going to share a bed together finally clunked into her mind, as was his guess.

"Thought otherwise?" he pointed out sardonically. "I don't know how you could have, seeing as how we're married."

His new wife remained wordlessly defiant as she stiffly arose from her posture on the bed and stood up. Never taking her eyes off of him or easing away from the glare, she pulled back the covers of the bed and silently slipped in. She then turned on her side, facing the door.

Edward blinked once, then walked over to the other side of the bed and entered it under the covers, turning away from her in the process. He could still hear her breathing as she kept awake.

Snorting lightly, he slowly closed his eyes and attempted sleep.

Only he couldn't- at least not a proper one anyway. He had only been asleep for about a couple of hours, tossing and turning, before his eyes snapped back open. He held back a groan of frustration; for months now, he had found sleep to be nigh impossible. Shifting under the covers, he noticed his wife in a sitting position, silently gazing at her hands folded in her lap. She started as she felt him move, and turned her head towards him. She took a deep breath, then opened her mouth.

"...Could I have a request?" Her voice, though strong, sounded unsure all the same.

Edward frowned and slowly eased into a sitting position as he bored his eyes mistrustfully into hers. He didn't like the sound of this. "...What kind of request?" He finally asked. His tone was laced deep with suspicion.

"Before...before I die, I want to tell my friend...one last story," she haltingly replied.

Now, Edward had actually offered requests to some of his previous brides to shut them up so that he could get a good night's sleep. They didn't ask for things too bothersome in his opinion, just stuff that any normal person in their position would probably ask for- one asked for a pearl comb to be set in her hair, another asked to be buried with a certain ruby chalice that had caught her eye, yet another wanted to be buried in the most lavish robes possible...the one that actually was the most touching was the request to be buried in the graveyard her family owned.

Why was he so suspicious about Winry's request, then? He might have expected something quite troubling, seeing as how he didn't even indicate that she could have one.

But to his surprise, this request was outright mundane. To tell a story? That's it?

His frown grew deeper in thought. Well, he certainly wasn't going to go back to sleep; he absolutely hated his dreams. Hearing a story might get his mind off certain things for a while. Besides, he could see nothing wrong or shady in just letting her tell a story.

"Guards!" he unexpectedly called out with a loud voice.

Immediately one of the guards standing in the hallway entered the room. "Did you call, my lord?"

"Bring the other girl. The one that came with this one." He pointed to Winry with his automail hand almost buried beneath his lengthy robes.

The guard bowed. "Yes, your majesty." Then he was off.

A few minutes later he was back, dragging a very perplexed Paninya by shackles that were tied around her wrists. She glanced over at them in the bed. "Um...why am I here?" Her voice was hesitant and tinged with fear as the guard left the room and closed back the door, once more flooding it with darkness.

"It would seem that my wife," Edward began slowly, "wants to tell you a story."

The one being spoken of said nothing for a moment, her hand fisting at the bed sheets, then gave her friend a soft smile.

"I just want to tell you one last story...so that you won't forget," she started as Paninya sadly walked next to her side of the bed. "Remember the one that was your favorite? The one about the boy that saved those worlds from everlasting darkness?"

Paninya silently nodded as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Well, I'm going to tell that one to you once more, okay?"

Edward lay back down in his bed and turned on his side, though he secretly kept awake to avoid dreaming again. Thankfully, the girls didn't notice as they spoke to each other, probably saying final goodbyes or reminiscing of the past.

He wondered about this story his wife was about to tell. Was it actually worth listening to? Well, even if it wasn't, at least it would keep him awake.

He heard her clear her throat and move her leg a little under the covers. "Okay, let's get on to the story before time runs out." Hearing this, Edward glanced out of the window and noticed that it was well past midnight; there were even small pink streaks scattered across the sky. He then heard his wife take a deep breath and begin, "This story starts with a boy and his dream..."

* * *

"The next thing Sora knew, there was a dog licking his face. Looking around, he found himself in the alley of a strange town he had never seen before. 

'Where's my home? My island?' he cried out as he stood up and searched frantically throughout the streets for anything even remotely familiar. He panicked, for here he was, a stranger that had lost everything and yet unknowingly gained everything in a single night- and all through unknown circumstances that revolved around the concept of the heart."

Paninya hung on every word, trying her best to keep the story etched into her mind. To her, this was more than just hearing a tale- it was also about keeping this last memory of Winry alive. She didn't know how long it was since Winry started recounting the story of the boy named Sora, the Keyblade Master.

Sora was a normal boy living in a place called Destiny Islands with his two best friends, Kairi and Riku. They wanted to go on an adventure together and see other worlds, so they were building a raft to do so. Meanwhile, Sora was encountering strange dreams.

On the night before they were to sail off on their completed raft, strange creatures exactly like the ones that had appeared in Sora's dreams attacked the island, accompanied by an extremely bizarre storm. Sora, having gone to check on the raft, was attacked by these creatures when a strange weapon in the form of a giant key manifested itself for him to use against these creatures. After defeating them, he searched for Kairi and found her in front of a weird door he saw the other day. A gust of wind blew her towards him, but instead of bumping into him, _she fell right through his arms_.

He found Riku soon after that, who asked him to travel to the darkness and reached out his hand for him to take. However, Sora was hesitant, and before he could take hold of his hand, they both disappeared into the darkness and were separated.

Other events occurred soon after, which led to the part of the story Winry was currently telling.

"And right after he finished defeating the creatures again, he suddenly saw a lone man standing in the middle of the street. He had a stony look on his face as he started towards Sora.

'I need you,' he said, 'to take a long nap.'

The next thing Sora knew was darkness." Winry then paused, her gaze turned towards the window.

"Well? What happened next?" Paninya prompted. "Don't keep me in suspense for too long."

Silently, Winry pointed out the window in response. Paninya turned- and gasped.

It was dawn.

"I...I guess that means end of story," Winry said whisperingly.

During all of this, Edward was secretly listening in on the story that his wife was spinning out. Though he usually disdained such things as childish and non-sensible, he couldn't help but be drawn to the tale. He also discovered something quite interesting about her story.

It prevented him from thinking of anything else.

One of the main reasons why Edward hated his horrible nightmares was the fact that they refused to simply vanish. They would sometimes haunt his thoughts during the daytime, during the nights he kept awake to prevent himself from dreaming again...

And his wife's tale had abruptly distracted him from all of that, for which he was extremely grateful.

But now, he was left in suspense- something he abhorred with all his might. Waiting for things like this, not knowing what the outcome may be or would be, was something that he couldn't stand at all, which most likely explained why he was so compulsive at times. And right now, this was one of those times.

Only for one more night, of course, he reassured himself. Only until she finishes this stupid story, and then I can have her executed by tomorrow. Then I'll have at least one more night of relief.

"Tell the rest tonight, then," he suddenly suggested. Slowly, he sat up and turned to face them, his emitted aura still giving out that of a dangerous adversary.

Paninya and Winry were so quiet, you could have heard a needle fall- and pierce the carpet. He was awake? Was he actually listening all along? And...did he just hint...that she could _live_?

"Ex..excuse me?" Winry asked, practically choking on air.

Edward held back a huff of exasperation. He did not enjoy repeating himself.

"I will not repeat myself again," he said sitting up and turning blaring eyes to her. "Tell the rest of the story tonight. Your execution will be postponed until tomorrow."

He got out of bed and left, leaving two shocked, unbelieving women behind.

* * *

'What a foolish decision.' Edward thought as he strolled down the hallways to the baths. 'After all, it is just a silly, childish-' 

"Sultan Edward!" He turned around to find an executioner addressing him, who then bowed.

"We have prepared the table and the bindings," he announced as his head rose. "We are now ready for-"

"Forget it." Edward turned back around and started walking off. However, he whipped around again after hearing a strange gurgling noise.

The executioner's eyes were wide and his jaw dropped so long he could have stuck his whole foot in and down his windpipe. The gurgling noise was coming straight from his throat- he must be near-choking on his saliva.

"Y-your...Your majesty?"

He now addressed him in a cold manner. "I believe my implications were clear. Resume your other duties. The execution will take place tomorrow instead." He then continued heading for his long-awaited bath. A small bout of coughing, then a stuttering "Y-yes,...your majesty" was heard.

Servants that were bustling about in the hallways immediately broke into startled gossip over the whole subject. Everyone there secretly rejoiced at being spared the dying screams of another sentenced maiden for one more day.

Except for one, standing in a secluded corner near the hallway, with a slight frown on his face.

* * *

A/N: Liked it? Hope so! 

Ah, yes, Kingdom Hearts. One of the best love stories in that video game. Sorry, but this story may seem a bit shortened or cut off because I only played Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories and a bit of Kingdom Hearts 2.

I would also like to reveal where else I got the basis of the plot from besides _Arabian Nights_. It is a book called _Shadow Spinner _by Susan Fletcher. I greatly recommend that you read this book- it is quite exciting.

PLEASE REVIEW:P


	5. Chapter 4: Alive

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries. I also do not own any crossovers that will appear throughout the story.

Author's Note:

Where do I start...?

Well, first of all, I would like to apologize for the long update. It turns out that I was at a loss on how to continue the plot. Which leads me to another thing: most, if not all, of you guys misunderstood when I asked for advice on continuing the plot. I didn't really mean what other stories Winry should tell, I meant how should I have her and Edward interact with each other. But it's most likely my own fault for not clarifying too much, so I'm not mad or anything. Thank goodness I was finally able to figure out _something_.

Along with this frustrating writer's block, I also found that updating every week probably won't work. You see, I take extra care before uploading chapters. I first type a draft, then print it out, take it to school with me, read it over, edit it, place corrections on the saved draft when I come home, print it out again, and then the whole cycle starts all over again. I'm serious, I read over my chapters again and again until I am almost sick of them. XP This all contributes to my efforts to make this story as good as I can make it. I know that I am not the best author out there, but I want to use the best of my writing abilities to make this story enjoyable for all of my reviewers.

In other words, I won't be able to update every week. The only reason why I was able to update almost every week so far was because I had already designed the prologue, the first two chapters, and most of the third before I even got my account. So if not every two weeks or three weeks, I will definitely update every month. I apologize to anyone disappointed by this, because I know how you feel. Many a time has happened when I was crestfallen by a late update. (I'm more of a reader than a writer.) However, more time between updates is greatly needed for better quality.

Another reason why this update is so late is because I felt guilty about not updating in a while and _tried_ to make the chapter longer than usual to compensate. :(

I would like to thank **all of my reviewers**. Two additional people that I would like to thank are **Irvine E.**, who looked over this chapter and helped give me plausible advice (and thus became my beta), and **Georgina B.**, who helped encourage me to continue on with this story while I was still bumbling around.

Specific responses to your reviews for the last chapter are placed below. Now onto the next chappie: P

* * *

**Chapter 4: Alive**

Porters trudged along with their loads, merchants shrewdly bargained their wares, and butchers gloomily prepared the next stash of meat to hang for sale that day. Horrible as it was, all were waiting for the death gong to sound- the signal that another woman was sent to the land of the dead at the order of the sultan himself.

"Hey, it's almost time." A gruff character sitting at a bar took another sip of bitter wine. "He always executes them at the same time after every wedding." He grunted. "And then there goes another one."

He and other people around him continued to mind his or her own business, yet still waited to hear that chilling herald of death.

"Maybe he had mercy?" one muttered to another hopefully; this one was praying every day for the sultan's madness to end. The one he had addressed shook his head with irritation.

"That won't ever happen. The king will never stop killing his wives. He hasn't done so for the past year and a half, so why would he stop now?" The hopes of the former were crushed by this true remark.

However, as the day wore on and the sun rose to the middle of the sky, many people on the streets found themselves confused and puzzled. Had they not heard those horrible wedding bells last night? Doesn't the sultan always kill his wives at the coming of dawn? How come the gong didn't sound when it was supposed to?

The answer would soon be revealed at a small pub cornered near a dusty alley.

"Did anyone hear the gong yet? I don't think it rang today," commented the owner as he served drinks to his thirsty customers. "Is it broken...?"

One of them chuckled a bit, almost as if he knew something that no one else did. The small chuckles soon grew into deep laughter that rang throughout the small building and caused all chatter to die down. It then stopped when he noticed everyone's eyes on him, watching.

"And just what," the owner asked, "is so amusing, customer?"

He chuckled again in reply. "The fact that you guys just don't know. Well, I only found out myself because I was taking certain deliveries straight through the palace gates and heard all those servants chattering..."

"Well, would you be so kind as to relieve us of our ignorance, then?" The stranger's haughty manner was annoying to them all.

"Well, the reason why the gong didn't sound today was..."

His next words shocked them all.

_"He let her live."_

* * *

Winry sat up, drowsy and with hair unkempt. For a minute, she didn't even know where she was...and then the staggering truth hit her hard as hammers. 

She was in the sultan's bedroom. And not only that, but...

_She was alive._

Right after the sultan had walked out of the room, she and Paninya had stared at the door with unbelieving faces, as if he would slam through and change his mind any second. Neither of them would have been surprised at all if he had.

Due to their lack of rest, both had eventually drifted off to sleep. _And now_, thought Winry as she looked out of the window and saw the sun in the center of the sky, _it's around noontime_.

She looked down as she felt her stomach rumble. It was a while since she last ate.

But what was she supposed to do? She didn't know where the meals were served, let alone where the kitchen was; she didn't even know if she was allowed to go and get something to eat.

She huffed. _Allowed_. It was ironic how she, a mere orphan with little money or status, had overnight achieved the position of a sultan's wife, did another impossible by somehow surviving past dawn, and yet was unable to even get a meal. How had her shock about what had occurred over the last who-knows-how-many hours made her so...docile?

Never. Why, if the situation was different, she would have done more than just glare at her "husband" last night, and she knew it.

She seethed at the contemptuous manner she had perceived in him, and then abruptly stopped herself.

Who was she trying to fool? Right now, she was as frightened as a cornered mouse. Sure, she had survived, but _he_ had made it very clear that this was only the inevitable being delayed. Instead of dying today, she is just going to die tomorrow. What use is it to be angry over anything anymore?

But then, what use is it being scared of anything either?

* * *

Edward yawned as the commoner ranted on and on. 

"And then, sir, the little urchin just made a ruckus out of everything! He stole my purse and let my goats run free in the house. They upturned tables, smashed doors- my wife went hysterical when she saw one of them chewing on her jewelry...it was a complete outrage!" the man finished off his testimony with emphasis.

Silence.

The court- and the merchant- waited as he lifted his hand, placed it upon his crossed knee, and then in turn used it to prop his chin. He gazed down at the merchant with a hard, calculating look that betrayed no emotion.

"Let me get this straight," he began slowly.

"You were at your home...eating...and then a street beggar appears out of nowhere?"

The merchant nodded. "Y...yes, sir."

"After which, he all of a sudden jumped on your table, stole your money, and made a scene?"

"Yes sir, that's right, sir." He nodded more vigorously now.

"For no apparent reason _at all, _you say?"

"That is the truth, your majesty."

Edward was pensive. "And this urchin wouldn't have anything to do with that Merchant Maes you always mention, does it?"

The merchant started.

"I'm not one to forget things. I've noticed that there have been periodic complaints about this man, all of them from you and only you. I have also noticed that your statements on this man is the lone reason you request audiences. A bit suspicious, if you ask me."

"Well...I..."

"Let's see if your complaints are valid." The sultan then snapped his fingers.

Immediately two men covered from head to toe in deep purple clothing appeared and handed him a rather long scroll. They each had a black cloth hiding the lower portion of their faces, which made only their eyes visible as they glittered with menace at the nervous merchant.

"You merchants," Edward began as he started to search through the scroll, "are sort of like this kingdom's 'openings' or 'doors' to the outside world." His nearly invisible automail hand held his chin. "Therefore, you need careful watching over."

"Ah...here it is." He cleared his throat and recited the desired contents.

"Merchant Maes Hughes. Invests in the western caravans. Wares happen to be unusual trinkets from the western lands. Is married to a Gracia Hughes, whom he seems to adore above all else. Hmph." Edward snorted with disdain.

He then continued. "Is average in success- has a comfortable income. Used to be a mere servant for a wealthy landowner until he decided to become independent and start his own business. Worked exceedingly hard to achieve the position he is in today. Has no children, five servants, one chef, and one bodyguard, who all appear loyal to him. None of the aforementioned are known for causing any trouble." That said, he rolled up his scroll and stared pointedly at the merchant before him.

"What wares do you sell?" he suddenly asked.

"S-silk linens and thread..."

"Haven't those wares been in high demand over the last decade? I've heard that whoever was involved with their trade are now quite wealthy."

"T-that is correct."

"All of this evidence confirms my notion that this is a repeated attempt at a setup," he concluded in a quiet, menacing tone.

The merchant just stared in horror.

"I know that you have enormous wealth, Merchant Yoki. However, your greed is such that you wish to eliminate potential rivals around you in an effort to expand it even more." He then smirked devilishly. "Oh yes, and I also heard of the bribes you had paid some of my tax collectors to secure your current 'no tax-paying' position. Such actions are intolerable."

Merchant Yoki almost shrieked.

"You will be thrown into prison for several weeks for bribery, attempted setup, and refusing to pay my taxes. Your business will flounder as a result of your imprisonment and you will lose money equivalent to the amount you refused to pay me. Only then will I authorize your release."

Now Merchant Yoki really did shriek.

"N-NO! It can't be!"

"You will do well to remember that I govern my kingdom on equivalent exchange. Guards, take him to the dungeons."

"No!" the greedy merchant yelled as both his arms were each taken by a guard. He panicked as they dragged him towards the door. "This is injustice! This statement is nowhere near fair! You don't know anything about-"

Edward just ignored him as he took out a book, waiting for the next citizen to enter the hall.

"It's no wonder you can't keep a wife!"

Everyone in the court gasped in shock. They all went rigid with riveted eyes on the sultan, whose hair covered his brow and hid his face from view.

Even the guards were still, and their hands slacked their hold on the now pale merchant.

After a long silence, the sultan raised his head, his face expressionless and his voice calm.

"On second thought, have him executed."

* * *

"Almost there..." Winry muttered to herself. 

The pearl-topped pin she had found was working wonders on the lock.

"Okay now...you got it...come on..."

A low, yet satisfying _click_ was heard. She would have cheered, if not for the circumstances.

She slowly turned the knob and took a peek outside.

Casting cautious glances from one side of the long hallway to the other, Winry then stepped out and just as quietly closed the door.

"I'll be back," she whispered to a still-sleeping Paninya.

"Now where is the kitchen...?"

And just why was the door locked in the first place?

Shrugging other thoughts aside, Winry began her sojourn into the lengthy hallways. They were very wide and had many deviations from the path she was going down.

She hoped she wouldn't get lost.

* * *

"Please, your highness, I didn't mean anything by-" 

"Quiet."

Though the calmness of his voice told otherwise, his eyes spoke cold fury.

"I beg of you, I'll keep my mouth shut from now on, just please don't-"

"Gag him," Edward said impatiently. The rest of Merchant Yoki's desperate appeal was cut short with thick, rough scraps of cloth. His bulbous eyes widened even more and he hyperventilated out of fear.

He was pushed down on a wide platform of a table that was stained with blood near the top. At the sight of this, he let out a very muffled scream. Its volume raised higher when he saw the sharp glint of an ax.

"Now, executioner." The ax readied itself over the panicky victim. Just as it was about to slice down, however-

The door opened.

* * *

Winry was lost. 

"I knew I should have done at least something to try and mark my trail..."

She had wandered from room to room, ducking in various corners whenever she saw a guard pass by. After all, the sultan probably wanted her to starve in the first place.

_'Uh-oh.'_

There were now guards entering this hallway from both ends. Backing up, Winry found that there was only one door behind her.

_'I hope this is the kitchen.'_ She opened the door and rushed in.

It wasn't.

Instead of bustling servants and the aroma of food, there were men covered in black, a man tied onto what looked like a large table, and in the uppermost seat overlooking all the others...

The sultan.

He still held that look, the look of someone derisive, prideful, and everything else Winry thought loathsome. Even right before an execution, in his face she could find no remorse, no sympathy, no disgust, nothing.

And his eyes, those that burned with command for the utmost respect and obedience, were outright glaring at her.

They stared at each other for how long? Hours? Minutes? Seconds, maybe? Winry didn't know. Under the hold of her fear, she couldn't think.

A brilliant idea formed in her head.

_'Run away.'_

Forcing her body to move, Winry picked up her legs and started to back up little by little.

His eyes followed her with each step she took.

Undeterred, she kept going until she felt the knob behind her, and then...

She ran.

* * *

The guards looked from the escaping woman to the fidgeting prisoner, unsure. 

"What are you waiting for? Retrieve her." They moved.

"As a matter of fact, wait." His loyal soldiers halted. "I'll just get her myself."

Edward stood up and stretched. Then with a sudden speed that would have startled them all, he sprinted in his wife's direction.

"Follow through with the execution!" he called as he sped down the hallway.

The poor merchant had the good fortune to pass out during his final moments.

* * *

"Where to hide, where to hide..." Winry muttered as she ran in a panic. 

So far, all the doors she had tried were locked. However, she was sure that she had heard footsteps behind her, so she kept on running.

"I have to get out of here..."

She never wanted to be here. She just wanted to go home and tend to her automail again while waiting for Paninya to-

She stopped short. Paninya!

Her breath now coming out in short gasps, she leaned one hand on the wall beside her and held the other to her side. She couldn't leave now. Even if she did manage to escape, the sultan will just kill Paninya in her stead.

The footsteps sounded again, and Winry's head snapped up. She may not be able to run away, but she could at least hide for the moment- whatever good that would do. Fleeing the dreadful sound, she continued to try one door after another.

Frustrated that all the doors were locked, she pounded her fist on the next one- and fell right through onto a carpet of lush green.

Looking up, she found herself in the most beautiful garden she had ever laid eyes upon.

It was a large garden divided into many small gardens, each lovelier than the last. All contained magnificent trees with the most luscious fruit imaginable, and flowers with scents more pleasing than the most fragrant perfumes. Singing birds chirped and twittered from every branch, filling the gardens with their sweet music.

Winry stood up and walked over to the largest garden she saw. Interestingly enough, it had front doors with huge padlocks.

"What are you doing _here_?" a harsh, familiar voice rang out. Winry jumped, but neither turned around nor answered. A sick feeling plopped into her stomach as she recognized its owner.

She heard his footsteps approach her, one heavier than the other. "You," he drawled out, "are never to be seen in these gardens."

"Not that it matters anyway," he continued. Winry heard him stop right behind her. "You won't be alive long enough to disobey me."

* * *

A/N: I hoped you liked this chapter. Now on to the review responses: 

**Cerulean San**: You are usually one of my more energetic reviewers. I really enjoy reading your reviews. When you first started talking about Hana Yori Dango, I was like, "What's that?" and eventually had to go to Wikipedia. (scratches head sheepishly) It does sound like an interesting story, but I'm not sure if I'll use it for one of Winry's tales. Maybe if I modify it a bit to fit the story...? I don't know. I'm still going through some plot ideas in my head. Thank you for your energetic (and sometimes funny) reviews! ;)

**aizuhime: **Your reviews are usually short but concise, and I don't have a problem with that. They help encourage me to write for a reader's benefit, so thank you.

**Larie-chan: **Considering that you are my first reviewer, I am always pleased to hear from you. I must admit that your last review sort of made me go "uh-oh..." a bit, but I'm also glad to know that you consider me a good writer. I didn't mean to "cut corners" with my last story, so to speak. There _is_ a reason why I put the story of Kingdom Hearts in there, and it will become evident later on. In fact, each story that Winry will use for her tales will have some sort of significance. Also, I actually was considering making this story with a European setting when I first planned it, but then kept it as Arabian for certain reasons: (a) An Arabian setting is much more mystical and rich than a European one in my opinion, (b) I wanted to keep the storyline a bit closer to the original, and (c) I had never encountered an EdWin story with an Arabian setting on Therefore, since I couldn't find what I wanted to read, I simply decided to create it. However, I will consider modifying future tales and maybe even make one of my own, like you suggested. I will also consider using one of tales told in the original story as well. Hope you won't be disappointed, but I had planned this whole thing as a semicrossover from the start, so I will continue to use such crossovers. Thank you for your informative reviews.

**S J Smith: **Thanks for your review, I really appreciated it. I never really heard of Cashern (time for Wikipedia again, I guess), but I will consider using it as a tale. I'm glad that you find this story entertaining.

**blueducky511: **Wow. What an energetic review! Thanks for reviewing when you did, because it helped me to force my writing gears into work. I'm glad that I could satisfy another reader's wishes.

_**Whew, that was long. Don't forget to review, please! ;)**_


	6. Chapter 5: Anger and Distrust

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries. I also do not own any crossovers that will appear in this and future chapters.

Author's Note:

Whew! (wipes sweat off forehead) I kept my promise! Where I am right now it is 11:33 PM on April 30th, the last day of April!

(crickets)

(Sighs) Yeah, I know. This chapter was a bit too long in coming, and for two reasons: (1) Slight writer's block; (2) Procrastination. I just hope that you guys can forgive me for this.

**IMPORTANT:**

Okay, I'll be honest with you. There are some parts of this chapter that I am NOT too happy about. Not necessarily in terms of plot, but in terms of grammar and timing and stuff like that. Therefore, expect this chapter to be edited sometime by the end of this week.

I was so surprised at the new reviewers that I had received for the last chapter! They made me feel so encouraged! I hope this chappie isn't too bad...then again, I definitely will edit this. **Thank you everyone for your previous reviews:)**

**ANOTHER IMPORTANT:**

I had jsut realized that anonymous people have been prevented from revieing, so...

ATTENTION ALL ANONYMOUS PEOPLES WHO MAY BE READING THIS FIC. YOU CAN NOW REVIEW.**  
**

And now, on to the story. :)

* * *

**Chapter 5: Anger and Distrust**

Forgetting her fear, Winry swiftly turned around to glare at the sultan.

He stood there, arms crossed, and with his gaze showing absolute certainty in his words.

Yet again, these two were locked in a battle of the eyes: one pair distrustful, the other resistant, and both angry. They weren't willing to speak to each other if they could help it, and so neither did. In fact, Edward had only heard two words directed at him from his new wife so far.

"What are you doing out of your room?" His tone crept low, dangerous, as he took yet another step in front of her.

Winry said nothing. She knew that he spoke the truth when he said that her days were numbered, but as usual her natural stubbornness refused to acknowledge the inevitable.

The sultan's patience was wearing thin.

"I know that you can at least talk. Now tell me, what made you think that you could leave your room? A locked door is meant to keep things _in_." Another step, and he fully blocked her view of the exit behind him.

Winry drew herself up stiff and straight, evenly meeting his gaze and attempting to ignore the anger bubbling within her. She didn't know if her words would be able to stunt this irritating, cocky attitude of his, but her silence might.

Whatever worked, she was more than willing to try.

"What, you don't know how to stay put? Looks like the only brides my grand vizier is able to find nowadays are mere _defectives_."

He was mocking her, and she knew it. She bent her head down as her anger now steamed and flared. Her hand clenched in response to how he was addressing her.

_'He's not referring to me as a someone- only as a __**something.'**_

And as her fury mounted, the silence remained, and his patience decreased.

Winry's mouth then opened in a slight gasp as her wrist was abruptly tugged upward- by his right hand, judging by the hard feel of chipped metal against her skin- and she was pulled forward. Looking up, she saw that the eyes of the sultan were the color of bitter, yellowish acid, reflecting his own rage.

"This is your last chance," he ground out in a harsh whisper. His voice was now much more threatening than mocking.

_'All this for trying to get something to eat?'_

"I _order_ you to tell me why you left that room. Was it to get something? To escape? Were you planning to place shame on my reputation?"

Her festering anger- and fear- rendered her mute.

"Or..."

His voice grew dark.

"Was it to meet someone? Like a _lover_, perhaps?" He turned his head and spared a brief glance around the gardens. "Where is he?" he demanded as his eyes once again rested on her.

The grip on her wrist tightened, but Winry didn't notice. Her mind had reversed to a temporary calm as she stood there, stunned. This man wasn't the famed genius she had heard of, with both respect and curses placed on his name. He...he was an idiot. A complete idiot.

_'Does he think that I am naturally faithless? Born with deception? I can't believe this...this- _

_He is an idiot. A babbling fool!'_

"Speak, if you can do that much!" Her wrist throbbed with pain as his metal fingers curled even tighter around it, but by now her breaking point was breached.

Drawing her other hand back as far as possible, Winry smacked the sultan clear across his face.

His head flew sideways and his long curtain of hair covered his eyes, but Winry didn't miss the look of utter shock that was prominent in them as his golden-hued irises dilated and quivered. Nor did she miss out on the feeling of supreme satisfaction that grew within her abdomen.

The sultan moved a step or two backwards from the sheer force of her slap- she had the strength of an ox, Paninya often reminded her- and stood still where he stopped. The gardens, the birds, even the air- all seemed to hold their breath as he gingerly, tenderly, lifted his flesh hand to the large red spot growing on his cheek.

Winry's private celebration ceased as she realized that with the sultan in such an inattentive state, her chance to escape was now open. Maneuvering a little around his unmoving form, she hurried for a taste of freedom that was at least temporary.

_'How am I going to get myself out of this?!'_

Only once did she steal a glance backwards at him. He stood there like a traumatized child for a few seconds longer, his hand to his cheek...and then brought it and the other hand together in a clap so sudden that she blinked. Focusing her attention forward again with a slight twinge of unease, she dismissed it as nothing.

But from the corner of her eyes she saw the flash of a strange blue light...

And her legs stopped moving.

* * *

Everything was so blurry, and yet she felt so warm, and...cozy. Blinking away the slight nausea, she found herself awake. 

She sat up cautiously after remembering that her bed usually wasn't this comfy...and then her mind pieced together the rest of what had happened last night, and she felt both sadness and joy. She tried to forget the sadness for the moment.

"Isn't this cool, Win? You actually get to live for another day! This has _never _happened-" Paninya paused as she glanced around the room.

"...Winry?"

* * *

"Oh man, what a nightmare." 

"You said it."

The two executioners strolled out of the execution hall with grim looks on their faces. Both of them stared blankly ahead as they walked, and neither spoke.

"...You would think that I would be used to this by now," one of them remarked while forcing out a dry laugh, and the other looked at him in concern.

"It is a difficult thing to get over," he said quietly. "It's never pleasant to see another person die."

"I know that already, but it's the fact that he makes so many of us attend that gets me, dammit!" His hands shook slightly as he fumbled in his pocket.

"I mean, there are what?" he continued. "Thirty of us? And how many victims being executed? One." He looked over at his companion. "And some of us aren't even soldiers. I can't believe he's even had someone like you take part." His left hand pulled out a slim brown cigar. "I mean, what does a _repairman_ have to do with this? It makes no sense!"

"Oh, here's one." he suddenly muttered. He stuck the blunt end of his cigar into one of the many scented candles placed around the palace corridors. Taking a short puff, he kept on with his rant while the other waited and listened.

"It's like...it's like he's trying to intimidate every one of his victims before they die. Like he's saying that he has control over their deaths. Those poor women," he added ruefully, before he balled up his fist. "You know, _he's_ the reason why there aren't too many pretty girls around for me to try and get acquainted with!"

"Calm down, calm down, Captain Havoc. Sheesh." the other man said with a sheepish look plastered on to his face, his hands raised.

Just before Havoc could reply, one of the doors in the hallway opened as a servant went about performing his duties, and both quieted their opinions. His friend resumed walking as a small, innocent smile touched his features.

"You know, it doesn't look like those desert cranes will be flying beyond the horizon today," he commented as more servants began to appear.

That comment certainly wasn't expected. "...Huh?"

He turned, and his smile grew a bit wider, if even a little secretive. "No. Today they've been seen flying around those nearby oases, you know?"

Havoc's face remained puzzled for a few seconds, but then lit up with realization. "Oh..."

He smiled a small smile as well.

"I see, Fuery."

* * *

He could see her struggling as he stalked over to her. 

He didn't care, though. Right now it was all he could do to keep from simply killing her on the spot. The heavy clomp of his slow, deliberate steps emphasized his brimming rage.

_'Why don't you kill her?'_

That's right: why shouldn't he? She was just another wife; they were all the same. All of them had a face that was at least nice to look at, and all of them were afraid of him. This one was no different.

Except for that defiance of hers.

He was only a bit surprised at this before, but now he felt it place a heavier impact on him. In all of the wives he had taken, she was the one with the most obstinacy. Sure, they all resisted capture or being sold into marriage with him, but none even had the _thought_ of doing what this one did just now.

He lightly prodded his left cheek with a finger, and then quickly pulled back as the tender flesh protested. Never before had he been slapped with such vigor.

Indeed, why should he let her live? Perhaps...he was a bit curious about her?

Hmph. Not at all. The only reason he was keeping her alive was because of that stupid story.

All this morning, his innermost thoughts had been straying towards the little tale his wife had told- to his resentment, of course. Even though he had managed to keep focused on his duty at hand, he knew that in the back of his mind, he was still wondering about it.

In reality, a child's tale should not have even a tenth of this effect on him.

But this one did.

Maybe it was because of the conflicts in the story. Being first in line to inherit the throne while growing up, Edward was not unaccustomed to danger. There were those who were not content with his family's rule, as there always were during any sultan's reign, and several means were conducted in an effort to eradicate the entire royal line. Edward remembered when once, at a time when he was five, a taste tester of his food had died from the intake of ground glass.

That was probably why he was interested in that story so far. He wanted to know how those kids dealt with such danger. Did they deal with it like he did? Or were there possibly other ways to deal with peril, other than the ones he had ordained?

All of these thoughts ran through his mind as he stood in front of his wife, watching her on her hands and knees as she continued to try and wrestle her feet from where the earth enclosed them.

_'Even if...'_

He bent and crouched down to her level behind her.

_'Even if I let her live...'_

His metal hand shot out and yanked a fistful of her hair. She gave a small gasp of pain as she looked back at him, albeit a bit nervously. His rich-colored bangs fell over his eyes, and he gritted his teeth.

_'Even if I let her live, who does she think she is?!'_

"Would you mind telling me," he ground out as calmly as he could, his boiling point rising even as he spoke, "just what the _HELL_ that was for?!"

Was that a growl he heard from her?

"What are you talking about?!" she shouted, and he was taken aback for a quick second. This woman was daring to shout back at him?

He yanked her hair harder. "So my wife does know how to speak after all. Does she know why she slapped me too?"

"Let me go!" she declared as she lifted both of her hands and tried to pry his grip loose. With her feet stuck straight in the ground, she had to lean her whole body into him as he kept his hold on her hair.

He yanked her head so that she was facing him upside down. "Not until you tell me what I want to know," he growled in a menacing tone. His breath flew into her wide eyes, making them flutter as she stared back at him, silent.

She then regained her composure. "Fine then. You want to know what I was doing out of that room?" Her voice rose with each word. "I was trying to get something to eat!"

Edward froze. The wind whistled and whispered around them while he tried to get a grasp of what she had just said.

"...What?"

Was she serious?

Her look was one of indignation. "I was looking for the kitchen so that I could get some food!"

Some birds twittered and squawked from a nearby tree.

"...What _for_?"

"What do you think?! Ever heard of the saying 'Eat to live'?"

He jerked her head closer and leaned down further so that his nose touched her forehead. His hair, long and golden, fell past his shoulders and framed around her face. Her voice seemed to have died from the level of their proximity, and their eyes bore into each others' with not the softness of affection, but the hard feeling of mistrust.

"Then what is the use of eating," he hissed out, his breath a light breeze ruffling strands of her hair, "when you are going to die soon anyways?"

She uttered not a word.

He let go of her hair, and she in turn fell backwards from the sudden absence of pressure. She sat up, wincing.

Not paying any attention to her discomfort, Edward started rolling up his sleeves. As he got to the right one, he hesitated for a slight moment, but then rolled it up to reveal an entire arm of automail, which was chipped in several places.

_'It doesn't matter anyway'_, he thought. He slid his eyes over to his wife.

To his surprise, she wasn't afraid. Instead she seemed...puzzled?

He grunted and brought his hands together in a single clap, the pose making him look like one in prayer. A blue light erupted as he placed them near her feet.

His wife breathed in sharply, and as he glanced at her he saw that she was watching the reaction take place, her eyes almost mesmerized. Soon the blue light then faded, and her ankles lay free.

"Tha...That was alchemy, wasn't it?" she asked weakly.

He didn't answer as he stood up. This one was smart. Most people that see an alchemic reaction would refer to it as 'magic'.

Edward reached over and grabbed her wrist to jolt her into a standing position. He then proceeded to drag her towards the door leading to the inner palace.

She struggled, but in vain. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded as she pushed against his arm.

"To where you were supposed to be in the first place," he tersely answered.

Servants hurried out of the way as he marched her through the hallways, fear and apprehension written all over their faces. She was quite sure that her face didn't look too positive either.

Winry tilted her head a little to catch a glimpse of the sultan's expression, and saw that his face was a heavy storm cloud ready to burst.

He suddenly stopped at the door to her- no, _their_ room, and she almost ran into him from behind. He flicked his eyes backwards for a brief second before bending over to pick up something small from the floor.

"...So this is how you got out..." he quietly remarked. She stiffened.

_'Why did I drop __that?!'_

Without warning he pulled open the door and threw her inside, and with an _oof!_ she hit the carpet- hard. Looking up, she saw Paninya sitting on the bed, her eyes blinking at her.

"I don't want to see you out of this room ever again...or else." The sultan slammed the door with such force that the hinges rattled. Winry heard the ominous sound of a clap, which was accompanied by a tint of blue that could be seen underneath the door. After a moment, the uneven sound of his footsteps clunked away.

She slowly got up and reached for the handle. Turning the knob once, she found that it was just as she had expected- locked.

"What...What happened, Winry?"

She turned and saw Paninya gazing at her with eyes full of questioning, and gave a weak laugh.

"You probably won't believe this..."

* * *

"WHAT? Winry, how could you?" 

She clutched her hands to the sides of her head. Why, oh _why_ did Winry do these things?

Her friend gave her a frustrated look. "I was hungry," she said in a clipped tone.

This set Paninya off on a tandem.

"Hungry?! You know how that sultan is, Winry! The littlest thing could wound his pride! You could have been thrown in a dungeon, or beaten, or executed, or-"

Winry sighed. "Okay, Paninya, I get it."

This is how it always was between them. Even though they were both considered headstrong, Paninya never let Winry forget that she herself was the less compulsive of the two.

She wasn't completely satisfied with her answer, but decided to let it go anyway. At least Winry's actions showed that she hadn't given up on life for the time being.

Unlike her.

* * *

When he opened the door to his room, the first thing that he saw was his wife's hard, blue eyes, intense with what he presumed was utter dislike for him. Ignoring her, he made his way over to his side of the bed and turned on his side. 

For a long while, all was still.

Even though they probably didn't know that he was listening...

He really didn't like his patience tested.

Just when he was going to insert something akin to a rude comment or grim threat, his wife cleared her throat, breaking the silence.

"So...uh...you forgot a lot about this story, didn't you?" A monotonous chuckle worked its way out of her thraot.

"Yeah..."

"Well then!...I'll just hurry up and tell you the rest right now."

He heard her take a deep breath, then begin.

"Okay, when Sora woke up, the first face that he saw- or thought he saw- was..."

* * *

"...Kairi?" 

Kairi frowned and her cheery voice turned rough.

"Get it right! It's Yuffie!"

_'Who the heck is that?'_

Sitting up and opening his eyelids fuller, he found that, true enough, the young and strangely-dressed girl standing by his bedside was certainly not Kairi. She was both too tall and too old to be her.

The girl- er, Yuffie- turned to someone standing near the room he was in. "Jeez, Squall, how hard did you hit this kid? He's supposed to be just knocked out, not delirious!"

The one she was addressing stepped into Sora's line of view. "It's Leon!" the man shouted.

"Hey, you're the one that knocked me out!" Sora yelled as he pointed a shaking finger at the man. "Just what did I do?!"

"Sorry, kid, but that was for your own good," Leon said gruffly as he walked up to where Sora was sitting. "Those Heartless are searching for that Keyblade you're carrying around. We have to hide the presence of your heart to keep them from finding you."

"Uh, I don't really understand what you're saying. You're not making much sense..."

A crash and some rumblings were heard.

Leon cursed under his breath. "Crap! They've sniffed it out...go on ahead, Yuffie!" he ordered while drawing out a funny sword. Yuffie protested, but complied.

Sora scrambled out of bed as the two hurried outside. "H-hey, wait up!" he called out as he summoned his Keyblade.

The three of them ran through the front doors of the building and halted at the scene in front of them- a small horde of Heartless. Leon surveyed the situation with a level of professionalism.

"Hmmm...there's a lot of them. And their behavior is organized...which means that someone or something must be ordering them around..."

He turned to Yuffie. "C'mon, let's take them. Don't bother with this small fry." He stuck his thunb out at Sora.

"What? But-"

"HELP!"

Sora looked up.

"Fight, Goofy, fight!"

On a roof almost directly above him were a big duck and big...dog-like thingy...fighting a group of heartless. For a moment, all Sora could do was stare at the strangeness of it all.

_'You don't see that everyday...'_

"I'm trying to! There's just too many, ahyuck!" the dog-creature shouted back as Heartless hammered on the shield he held- and then he started to teeter. "Oh no, I'm falling!"

"You idiot!" the duck bellowed as he grabbed onto his friend to keep him steady. Unfortunately, his attempt to do so failed and they both ended up going over.

"Huh?" was the only word that escaped Sora's mouth before the two animals landed on top of his head, effectively making him see stars. He lay there, wondering why he of all people had to be their safety pillow. Struggling against the two deadweight bodies on top of his back, Sora opened his mouth to utter a weak protest.

"The Key!"

Craning his head upwards, Sora saw that they had their eyes fastened on his Keyblade- and for some strange reason, they were fastened there joyfully.

Before he could ask just what exactly was going on, a deep, earthshaking rumble sounded throughout the street. Out of nowhere, sturdy walls sprang up and enclosed the area.

"What's happening here?!" he exclaimed, and a bright flash blinded everyone's eyes as if in answer.

Opening them once more, Sora saw various limbs and what-nots assemble to form the largest Heartless had ever seen.

As the duck's jaw dropped in panic, Sora huffed and gripped his Keyblade tighter. "Not again!"

The Heartless looked around slowly, taking in his surroundings- and then his eyes rested on the Keyblade. They then relocated their focus to settle on Sora, who felt his entire body sweat from this realization.

However faint his body was, however, did not seem to affect his heart. Though it held fear, if anything it willed- no, _commanded_ him to take action, to stay strong, to never give in.

To defeat the Heartless standing right in front of him.

Even so, he still felt frozen as its gigantic fist sailed straight towards whatever of him it could pummel- which was every single part of him. It came as a surprise when it was suddenly deflected by the dog-creature's shield.

As Sora looked at him questioningly, the duck came up behind him. "Let's fight this thing together, okay! We've got your back!"

Nodding once, he uncaged his feet from their imaginary prison and dashed at the Heartless, Keyblade raised.

He only wondered for but a moment about the slight tingling he sensed deep within himself. As he brought the Keyblade down on the Heartless's arm, a sort of power seemed to overtake him, drown him, and exhilarate him all at the same time. He did not know whether to feel choked or invigorated, but it did not matter as he struck the enemy, the Keyblade giving out a high ring as it shattered the arm almost effortlessly.

While he was happy that one of the tremendous appendages were rid of, the Heartless did not seem to be taking it well. With a bow of its head, it sent a blazing beam of harmful energy at Sora, seriously injuring him. The boy squinted and doubled over in pain, but then was amazed to find that he no longer had any.

Standing up, he caught sight of the remnants of sparkling, green leaves. His attention went to the duck, who had a curious type of staff outstretched in his direction.

"That was a Cure spell just now, kid. Didn't I say that we were going to look out for each other?"

Sora smiled. "Thanks!" he yelled in gratitude before he once more charged at the Heartless.

All three of them- the boy, the duck, and the dog-creature- assailed their foe with countless blows of both the magical and physical sort. Sora darted to and fro, slamming his Keyblade into whatever piece of Heartless he could reach, the dog-creature followed both him and the duck around deflecting attacks coming their way, and the duck performed impressive spells to damage the adversary or heal his comrades.

Finally, with one last splintering hit from Sora's Keyblade, the Heartless crashed to the ground and disintegrated.

"That's the end of you, you freak!" the duck applauded.

Sora panted, his hands resting on his knees. He was suddenly lifted and squeezed into a bone-crushing hug by the dog-creature.

"Arrgh! Put me down! Put me down!" He squirmed and struggled to get out of his grasp.

Chuckling, the dog-creature set him back on the ground. "Sorry about that. It's just that I'm glad we finally found ya! Donald and I have been looking for you everywhere since we got here!"

That last sentence alone was enough to get Sora confused.

"...What? You've been looking for me?"

"So have we," Leon said as he stepped out of the shadows. He scrutinized Sora with a bit more respect held in his eyes. "You did good just now, kid."

"W-wait!" Sora waved his hands frantically. "Don't change the subject here! Just what exactly is _going__on_?"

"Those Heartless were seeking the bearer of the Keyblade," the man answered with a grim edge to his tone. "In other words...you."

He stood there, stunned.

"...Why?"

"The Heartless fear the Keyblade, which is the most powerful weapon against their entire kind," Leon informed.

"Therefore, they all rush to the holder of the Keyblade and try to destroy him since the power of the Keyblade comes from the power of the holder's heart," Yuffie interrupted. Leon sent her a glare before giving a slight nod in confirmation.

"So do you wanna come with us?"

Sora looked at the duck for jumping in with that question. He had a toothy smile on his face, and though his actions before had shown some sincerity, there was just something about this guy's expression that was a bit too...cheesy.

"You'll be able to travel to different worlds on our ship, too!"

_'I don't know...'_ Would leaving this place really be the best thing to do? After all, what if Kairi or Riku showed up here too?

"You some friends missing, right kid?" Leon suddenly asked. Sora snapped out of his thoughts to stare at him in disbelief.

"How did you know?!"

"Everyone that comes to this place has to search for someone that they were acquainted with at their homes. But here's the thing- your friends probably ended up on other worlds too."

He lowered his head in thought.

"...Really?"

"Of course!" The duck inserted brightly. The dog-creature mumbled something, and the duck pulled him down by his collar to hiss in his ear. Sora wondered at this suspicious behavior, but thought no more of it.

"Okay, then! I'll join you!"

The duck's smile widened. "That's great! I'm Donald, by the way."

"And I'm Goofy," the dog-creature said.

"And I'm Sora!" he exclaimed as they put their hands together.

"Let's go!"

**00000000**

"We're here, Sora!"

"Already?" It had only seemed like minutes since they had entered the strange gummi ship, the ship that was able to sail the otherwise impassable ocean between the worlds.

Chip and Dale, the two small chipmunks responsible for keeping the ship in order, leaped up and down. "Yep, there it is! There it is!"

Sora ran over to the side of the deck, and, sure enough, there was a rather colorful-looking world in view. "Wow..."

"Okay, let's bring us in nice and easy," Donald muttered as he turned the steering wheel.

"Ahyuck! Donald, look out!"

"Huh?!"

The ship caught on the edge of the landing shore near the stern with an impact so great that it jarred Sora off of the deck and onto land.

"Don't worry, Sora! I'll get ya!" Goofy cried as he leaped off of the boat.

"Gofy, you idiot!" Donald quacked. He gave the wheel to the two chipmunks. "Make sure this thing lands safe, you guys!" He then jumped off the boat himself.

And collided into a pile consisting of a star-struck Sora and Goofy. "OW!"

The three of them sat up, nursing the lumps on their heads.

_'How come we always manage to get into dog piles like this?!'_

Then from further inland came a roar that thundered in the air and quaked the ground.

"OFF WITH HER HEAD!"

* * *

Winry paused as sunlight struck the corner of her eyes, and faced the window. 

Once more, it was dawn.

* * *

A/N: I don't have much time to be on here, which is why this note is kind of rushed. Anyways, don't forget to review. ;) 


	7. Chapter 6: Second Day

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have **never**, I repeat, **NEVER** existed in a million centuries. I also do not own Kingdom Hearts.

Author's Note

There is one thing that I, first and foremost, ould like to say to all of my readers and reviewers.

(on knees) PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!

The reason why this chapter was so delayed was because of a case of _very bad_ writer's block. There were times when I opened up the document on my computer and just stared at it for I don't know how long!

I tried to break away from it by doing other stories, but...it didn't work. Those who would like to see info about the progress of my other stories, look at the author's note on the bottom of this chappie.

This chapter is MUCH longer than the last one, and I'm grateful for that. I hope it can remedy the fact that it wasn't updated for five months. :(

To tell you the truth, I was going to upload this tomorrow instead because I had just finished it today after 4-5 long, grueling hours at the screen. But I felt so bad about not updating in so long, I decided to take the risk and upload it today. I'll try fixing any mistakes by tomorrow. (sighs) I hope there's not too many...well, as long as you guys enjoy it, then I'm okay with it.

I would like to especially thank **Cerulean-San** for constantly pushing me towards the finish and even adding in some extra little tidbits of help. I would also like to thank the rest of my reviewers for their reviews. Looking at them from time to time helped make the finish of this chapter possible.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**  
Chapter 6: Second Day**

No one spoke a word. The silence that hung between them was a heavy blanket, one that promised comfort yet threatened suffocation at the same time.

They all waited for something from the other. Edward lay on his side facing away from them, silent. Winry was kneeling on the bed with the sunlight dancing pink and yellow patterns across her nose and eyes as she stared out the window, and Paninya was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring up at Winry.

He sighed, and their eyes flickered toward him, startled. Both of them had been oblivious to his presence throughout the night.

A golden eye peered over his upper shoulder with the slight turn of his head. His hair hung lazily to one side. He stared at them, thinking, calculating.

"From the way that story was stopped...I don't think that was the end."

Winry's eyes widened by the slightest fraction. Was...was he really going to...?

There was the sound of metal fingers rubbing together, and then he eased himself into a sitting position upon the bed. He kept his back to them as he stood up and made his way for the door.

"...Tell the rest tonight."

The door closed shut, and this time the two women heard a loud click.

* * *

Edward walked towards the audience hall with his hand held to his forehead. Rejecting that executioner was even worse than it was yesterday. After being told that there would be no execution that morning, the man had choked on a sudden intake of air. It took several pats on the back from a nearby servant to get him breathing again. 

_'Why do I have such dramatic idiots working for me?'_

The hall was empty when he stepped through its brass-beaten double doors. He ascended the steps to his throne and settled himself onto its stiff metal frame, stifling a quick yawn as he did so.

He leaned a cheek on one hand, then jerked back as though touched with fire.

Of course. How could he have forgotten? That was his _left_ cheek that he was leaning on. It was still bruised?

Edward frowned deeply and clenched his fist as he fought to contain the anger that ensued from yesterday's...occurrences.

What did she slap him for anyway? What did she think gave her the _right_ to do such a thing to him, the sultan _and _her husband no less? She must have been a peasant or something of the sort; that was the only explanation he could conceive for her crude behavior.

Inhaling once to calm himself, he leaned his head on the opposite hand while tapping the fingers of the other against the armrest of the throne. Soon the northern gate will be opened to the citizens already lined up there, and then they would one by one enter the hall to express complaints or concerns...all day long.

Of course, there would be the off-chance that there were less people today...which meant that he could take a break. Then he would be able to do some training with his swords, or take a relaxing soak in one of the baths, or finally retire to his library...

Or take a walk in the gardens.

Edward stopped tapping his fingers to stare off into space for a while, reminiscing of a time long ago that he would rather leave forgotten, a time when...

He abruptly shook his head and reached over one of the armrests to pick up a book kept there for reading in between his audiences. He gently ran his left hand over the cover, feeling the worn leather and hearing it crackle beneath his fingers. _Origins of Alchemy_, the faded title read. Slowly, he opened the book to a marked page.

_"Wow. Look Brother, it says here that alchemy was born in the __kitchen__!"_

_"What? That can't be right! Let me see that!" An eight-year-old Edward snatched the book out of his brother's hands and scanned his eyes over the page. The frown on his face soon gave way to an expression of disbelief._

_"...Really? Something as cool as alchemy was started in a place so...boring?"_

_"Brother, I can't believe you just said that!" Alphonse's voice was ripe with indignation. "That's where our __food__ comes from, you know!" Alphonse had always loved good food, just like his big brother._

_Edward placed a finger on his chin and lifted his head upwards to stare at the intricate designs swirling across the ceiling. "Uh...no, not really, Al. That's only where the food is __cooked__. I think someone else makes the food and brings it to the palace."_

_"Really...who?"_

_Edward shrugged his shoulders, his face blank. "I don't know." _

_"Oh." Alphonse stared at the ground for a few seconds, and then suddenly leaped up. "Hey, let's go find out what we're gonna get for lunch today!"_

_Edward grinned. "Okay. Race you!"_

_The two of them ran out of the sunlit library, their bare feet pounding hard against the tiled floor._

The corners of Edward's mouth twitched at the memory.

_Click, clack. Click, clack._

He looked up.

"Your honor?"

It was Grand Vizier Bradley.

The sultan straightened and closed his book shut. "Yes, Grand Vizier?"

The vizier regarded him through his uncovered eye for a moment, then brought a fist up to his mouth. Clearing his throat, he said, "I've heard about your bride. Is it true that she's...still alive?"

Edward's face was expressionless. "Yes," he said in monotone.

"Why so?"

He didn't reply. For some reason, he felt too embarrassed to do so- and that had never stopped him before.

The vizier's eye softened. "Well...if you don't want to tell me, then that's fine. But don't forget-"

"I know," Edward said, his voice low. "I haven't forgotten. She's going to be executed by tomorrow, so..."

He mentally searched for the right words, awkward.

"Don't...you don't have to worry," he said at last.

Bradley smiled fondly and turned to exit the audience hall, though not before bowing first. "I shall attend to my duties, your majesty." He shut the door behind him.

* * *

Was this real? 

Winry lay flat on her back on top of the bed, her eyes wide open as Paninya snoozed somewhere on the carpet.

'_Am I actually alive? Or am I in a dream?'_ Winry looked around at the lavish carpet and the beautiful carvings on the walls. The sunlight, bright as ever, reflected off a couple gold chests and shimmering golden chalices. _'A bittersweet dream?'_

The good part of all this was that she was in a place she had never dreamed of stepping foot in: a place of nothing but luxury and wealth. Literally, she had gone from rags to riches in one day.

But the bad part of this was that her supposedly good fortune wouldn't stay with her for long. Soon, she would be dead, and the only thing good that she could hope for then was a place in paradise.

Her fingers inched toward the bottom of her sleeve, raising it up to reveal a thick bangle tight-fitted around her upper arm. It was quite beautiful; made of gold and inlaid jewels, it dazzled and sparkled in the sunlight streaming onto the bed.

How she wished she could tear the thing off.

The bangle represented- no, proved- the fact that she was married, that this was all not a dream, that everything that had happened to her so far and is happening to her right now was and is real.

Oh, how she wished it could be torn off!

Winry covered her face with her hands, and decided to think of other things. She sat up and fingered the rest of her wrinkled wedding clothes.

There were many things that she didn't understand. For instance, why was the sultan keeping her alive?

The answer was obvious. _'Because of the story.' _

But then that led to another question. Was he really awake all night listening to that story? And if so, why? It was a mere child's tale, one of the many that her mother and father used to tell her when she couldn't sleep or when she had bad dreams.

Wait...bad dreams.

Winry blinked.

'_Didn't he wake up from a bad dream the other night?'_

If so, then that would explain his attentiveness to the story; he wanted to keep away from his own nightmares. But...what was he dreaming about?

Winry had to admit that she was a bit curious. After all, what kind of dreams could spook the sultan? Didn't everyone say that he was someone with no fear whatsoever? But then she squashed that curiosity as quickly as it had come. As far as she was concerned, he was someone not worth knowing about.

Well, as soon as that story was finished, her life was over; that was most certain.

But it wasn't her life that she feared for the most- it was Paninya's. She could deal with threats to her own life, but not Paninya's.

After her parents' death, she had been lonely, wandering the streets with hardly anything to her name. There were days when she didn't want to live, not with the love of her father and mother gone forever.

But then Paninya had come into her life. And slowly, she found that she had someone to care for and care for her in return. Together, they had built a strong bond of love that had helped ease the throbbing pain lodged deep within her heart.

No, she couldn't let Paninya die. It would be worse than her own death.

"Hmmm...Winry?"

She turned and flashed a smile at Paninya, who was sitting up and blinking her eyes. "Finally you're awake, Paninya. You snore louder than an elephant."

"I don't snore!" Paninya answered, adamant. After a quick moment of silence, they burst out into weak giggles.

Paninya placed a hand on her stomach as the laughter died. "Ugh...I'm starving." She looked up at Winry. "What are we supposed to do for food?"

She kept silent. _**'Then what is the use of eating if you're going to die soon anyways?'**_

"...Winry?"

Winry bent her head and fisted her hands among the sheets. "It's no use, Paninya. He doesn't expect us to live any longer." Her eyes hardened as bitterness poured out of her voice. "Apparently he doesn't see the logic in wasting food on doomed prisoners."

"Oh..." Paninya didn't know what to say. There were no words that could repair the shattering impact the truth had on them.

Winry lay back down and closed her eyes. Perhaps if she tried hard enough, she could find solace in her dreams.

* * *

Edward sighed as he walked up the stairway to his room. 

A massive number of people had requested an audience with him today, which left no time at all for leisure. That wasn't what annoyed him the most, however- it was the fact that some of his citizens' problems and complaints were little more than trivial.

_'Give out privileges, and they'll return to you abused.'_

When he reached his room, he stopped and put an ear to the door to listen for any sounds coming from within.

There was not a rustle, nor a snatch of chatter...nothing. He frowned as he opened the door softly.

They were asleep. His wife was curled up on one side of the bed, and her friend was on the carpet with her eyes closed as well.

His frown deepened as he closed the door and went to his side of the large mattress. He turned over on his side and away from his wife with his head propped upon his hand.

Now that she was asleep, he wouldn't be hearing any of that story tonight. He might as well stare out the window since he certainly wouldn't be getting any sleep either.

Unless he woke her up.

He sniffed to himself in contempt. Absolutely not.

* * *

_She is going to be punished. She wasn't good enough. She will die._

_Rough hands threw her on top of a large wooden surface covered in blood._

_She didn't say anything. It was no use now._

_She looked up and saw the sultan in robes of the deepest, silkiest red- the kind that makes one want to hold it to one's face and have the skin drink it all in at once. She almost tried to strain against her binds, just so that she could touch it- or touch him?- but his stony expression immediately erased that thought from her mind._

_"I'm sorry," she wanted to say, but when she opened her mouth, she couldn't speak. Even her voice was afraid to face him._

_She watched him slowly raise up a large, jeweled scimitar above his head, the blade shining ruby red. She wondered how it would feel to die. Would it be quick, or slow? Would it be painful, or would she be gone before she could feel anything?_

_She kept her eyes on the ruby red, shiny red, lustrous red blade. It was entrancing. Captivating. Red._

_He brought down the scimitar very slowly, and the suspense made her twitch once in irritation. "Do it now!" she wanted to shout._

_But then the sword stopped midway, as if it had hit some invisible hard surface. It started quaking and shaking and shivering and wobbling..._

_She looked at the sultan, and saw that it was his hand that was doing the shaking. Why?_

_And then all of a sudden he changed. Deformed. Transformed. All of a sudden he was not a man, but a small child, a small boy, and his robes were actually liquid blood that began to stream off of him like a fountain and tears were coming out of his eyes and he was crying and-_

_And the ruby red blade dissolved into a big stream of blood, ready to pour on her like the tears coursing down his small, pale cheeks-_

Winry's eyes popped open and she bolted upright, panting and huffing with her hand held over her heart.

"About time."

She whipped her head around and saw the sultan lying sideways upon the bed.

"I thought you had a story to tell?"

She watched him lying there as if in a dazed wonder, still caught in the remnants of what she had just glimpsed in her sleep. Him, a crying child...?

He turned his head and took note of her heaving form and half-lidded eyes. "...Bad dream?" he questioned.

Winry stiffened and scowled at his dry remark.

"I'm touched," she spat, her voice wracked with sarcasm, "that you are so..._concerned_."

He sat up, his eyebrows now furrowed. "Spare me your gratitude," he spat back. "You and your friend over there will have to exchange it for mercy once morning comes- though it would never do you any good, I assure you."

"And if I exchange a story instead?"

Her bold inquiry shot out from her lips, unbeckoned. It rebounded against the walls of the room over and over, and its echoes drowned them in still-breath silence.

The sultan leaned in towards her with smoldering eyes, his nose mere inches from hers. "A story could never be enough equivalent exchange...for a life." His voice came out as half a whisper and half a hiss. "You would do well to remember that."

Winry blinked once from the sheer intensity of his glare. "A story is a life of its own," she retorted. "Isn't a life equivalent to a life?"

He leaned away, their eyes still locked. "Yes," he said slowly. "A life for a life."

The angry scowl on Winry's face vanished as her eyebrows rose- but then it reappeared as confusion set in. She couldn't help but feel that she had missed the full meaning of his words just now. She opened her mouth again, but was interrupted by a rustling behind her.

"Winry? Who are you talking-" Paninya had sat up and peered above the mattress line, her breath catching at the sight of the sultan. He spared her a sidelong glance, and she narrowed her eyes a bit.

"Oh," she said, a little sour. She looked up at Winry. "So...how about I hear the rest?"

Winry stared back at the sultan for a few more moments, then turned around and put her full back to him. He did likewise, once more settling himself into an outstretched position on the mattress and staring out the window.

"Of course the three were more than surprised at the booming voice that had sounded out of nowhere..."

* * *

"What was _that_?" Sora exclaimed. He looked to Goofy and Donald for an answer, and his face fell in dismay. 

The two of them were clutching at each other tightly with their legs quivering and their teeth chattering like woodpeckers. He sweatdropped.

"Uh...guys?"

They snapped out of their fearful stupor; Donald immediately pushed Goofy away once he saw their arms around each other. "Get off of me!"

Goofy slumped to the floor with a crash.

"C- come on, Sora!" Donald gave an impatient wave of his shaking hand and began heading back to the landing shore. "This place probably doesn't have what we're looking for anyways."

"Wha...wait!" Sora quickly helped Goofy up and ran to catch up to Donald. He leaped in front of the duck's path. "How do _you_ know? We've only been here for five minutes! Kairi and Riku could be here!"

"He's got a point, Donald," Goofy said as he walked up to them. "You can't decide to leave just cuz you're scared, ahyuck!"

"What do you mean _I'm _scared?! You were the one who- _oomph!_"

Donald's rant was abruptly cut off by something white and fluffy that landed on his head. It hopped straight off, shouting,

"I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say hello goodbye, I'm late I'm late I'm late!!"

It was a three-foot high, cotton-tailed, floppy-eared rabbit.

_'In a waistcoat?!'_

It was true; not only did the rabbit sport a dressy waistcoat, but a fashionable pocketwatch in his right paw and a closed-up umbrella hung over his other arm. He kept looking at his pocketwatch with murmurs of "I'm late! I'm late!" as he hurried along.

Sora and Goofy stared, dumbfounded.

"...What was that?"

Donald fumed as he rubbed the top of his head. "Let's follow!" he yelled. He stormed after the rabbit without waiting for anyone else.

"Wait up, Donald!"

"Ahyuck!"

The three of them ran after the nervous animal with all the speed their legs could muster.

Soon they followed him along a paved path into a large building. They paused near the door for a few minutes, huffing and puffing and trying to figure out where the rabbit had gone.

"Which..._huff_...way..._huff_...Where's that bloody rabbit?!" Donald raged.

Sora looked around. "I wonder where he...ah!"

He had glanced down and found the rabbit running between his legs.

His gigantic legs.

The rabbit was now a mere ten inches from what Sora could see. And when he raised up his head in bewilderment, he was surprised to feel it brushing against the ceiling that was now mere centimeters away from his eyes.

"...Eh?"

The rabbit scuttled across the tiled floor and slammed a tiny door on the opposite wall.

Donald's mouth opened and closed as he sputtered and gasped. "Wha...how the...how did he..."

"Wow, Donald, looks like all three of us had growth spurts, ahyuck!"

The duck turned irate at this comment. "You big lummox! This isn't a growth spurt, you idiot!" He pounded a fist into the side of Goofy's head and earned a satisfactory _Ow_ in return.

"How'd he get so small?" Sora asked, bending in front of the door the rabbit had disappeared into. He prodded the doorknob. _'Wow, this door is so __tiny_

"I believe the problem is not that I'm too small, but that you're too big."

Sora let out an undignified "Eek!" and jumped three feet away from the door. Did that door just now _speak_?

_'What the heck?!'_

True to his startled senses, he saw the doorknob move as if it had a mouth. "You don't have to be so loud. If you want to get through, just ingest the contents of that bottle over there." It paused to sigh. "And would you _please_ hurry on with it? I don't have all day, you know. I've got plenty of sleep to catch up on."

Donald and Goofy huddled around the doorknob while Sora snapped out of his daze and searched for the indicated bottle.

"It speaks!"

"Afternoon sir, ahyuck!"

"Hmm...a bottle? Ah!" His eyes caught a dark green bottle on top of a beautifully carved table in a nearby corner. "Is this it?"

He drank a few drops and shoved it in the others' hands. "Drink up, you guys."

Donald frowned at first, but then took a drop before gagging. Goofy, on the other hand, took a nice long swig.

They waited.

"Uh...Sora, what's supposed to happ-"

All of a sudden the centimeters between them and the ceiling turned into whole meters. And all of a sudden the tiny door they were bending over loomed in front of them.

In other words...

"Wow! We really _did_ shrink!"

Sora's eyes were bugged out in fascination. "Unreal, man! It's just like they say! The worlds beyond really _are _filled with mysterious things and stuff!"

"I don't know, Sora," Donald said. He looked spooked. "They ain't supposed to be _this_ mysterious, I don't think..."

"Well, now that that's over and done with, let's go!" Sora cried. He tugged at the doorknob and frowned when it didn't give way. "...Huh?"

He glared straight into the doorknob's eye and found the reason for its immobility- it was snoozing away.

"Oi, open up! C'mon!"

"Hey Sora, we can just go this way!" Goofy said as he and Donald crawled through a hole in a nearby wall. Sora sweatdropped as he got down on his hands and knees after them. _'Geez...'_

The three of them soon emerged in a large, grassy garden filled with rose hedges. In the center of the garden was a large court.

And in that court was quite a mess.

"Please, your highness, this is so unfair!"

"Quiet! You are the most definite culprit! Now where are my soldiers?"

A girl- _'She must be Kairi's age...'_- was standing in the middle of the court with a hand held to her heart. She was staring, obviously perplexed, at a large queen sitting on the raised platform in front of her.

"But for what reason am I being charged?" she implored. "I've done absolutely nothing wrong!"

The overly-dressed woman answered in a snippy voice devoid of compassion. "You're the culprit because I said so! Get her, soldiers! Cut off the head of the one guilty for trying to steal the heart of the Queen of Hearts!"

Sora started. "You guys, she said something about stealing a heart! We should help out here!" But when he turned towards Goofy and Donald, he saw that they were less than enthusiastic.

"...What's the matter?"

"We can't meddle in the affairs of this world..." Donald muttered.

"Against the rules, that is," added Goofy.

"But guys-"

"No,no! Oh, please!" The girl was being surrounded by several giant _card _soldiers, who were brandishing dangerous spears that came way too close to her head...

"Stop right there!"

Donald slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, jeez..."

"How do you know for sure that this is the real culprit, lady!?"

Sora fell backwards at her answering bellow.

"AND WHAT MANNER OF CREATURE ARE YOU, SCUM!? HOW DARE YOU INTERFERE WITH THE PROCEEDINGS OF THIS COURT! MANNERLESS, THE LOT OF YOU!"

His legs shaking a little, Sora jumped up and shouted back, "Excuse me, ma'am, but we know who the real culprit is!"

"Ahyuck, it's the Heart-" Donald clamped a heavy wing over Goofy's mouth.

"Information concerning the Heartless is strictly top secret, kapeesh!?" he harshly whispered.

"Hogwash, lad!" the queen answered, not hearing Goofy's slip-up. "Do you have any evidence supporting the defense?"

"Er..." Now Sora felt immensely sheepish. "I...I'm kinda workin' on that..."

He turned his head at the sound of a loud metal clang and saw the girl being locked in a large cage.

"Very well." His attention was turned back to the queen. "I shall humor your claim. Bring me back evidence of Alice's innocence! If you fail, then it's off with ALL of your heads!"

Sora gulped.

"Until you conclude your investigations, this court is adjourned!" And with the pound of a gavel, everyone departed.

Sora stared up at the cage that the soldiers had risen high above the ground. "Don't worry, miss! Just you wait! We'll capture the real culprit for ya!"

"But where the heck are we gonna find evidence..." Donald muttered.

The girl inside the cage stared back warmly for a moment. "There does in yonder wood reside the Cheshire Cat. Do seek and ask him where he thinks this proof is at. And please be careful, now!"

"Get a move on! Visitation hours are over!" shouted one soldier.

"All right, all right! Yeesh!"

**0000**

Sora sighed in exasperation.

"Can't we just tell them that the Heartless did it?" he asked crossly as he shoved away yet another tree branch. They must have been in the forest for hours now, and there was still no signh of that darn cat. "It's not like we're meddling in their affairs or anything..."

"No, it is!" fumed Donald. He took a deep breath and held out a finger as he tried to explain. "Each world out here has its own particular boundaries, and within each of those boundaries is a different understanding of reality that emerges as a different sort of truth. Two different truths aren't able to coexist, so foreigners tend to introduce chaos and conflict. _That's _why we have to limit our involvement in local affairs as much as possible."

"I disagree."

All three of them started at the unfamiliar keening voice sounding around the trees nearby.

"I pose that the untruth of this truth upon truths holds untruer."

Sora looked up and saw a striped purple-and-pink cat lanugishing on a tree branch in front of them. When did he get there? He could have sworn that nothing was there a few seconds ago...

The cat grinned eerily. "The Cheshire Cat knows all truths, and finds as yet no contradiction for chaos."

"Ahyuck, it's the Cheshire Cat!" Goofy shouted.

The cat reached behind him and pulled out a small white box from thin air. He tossed it at Sora. "Here you go."

"Within the box there lives perhaps the truth you seek..." explained the cat as the trio gazed at the box in confusion, "Or perhaps there lives not? To trust, or not to trust..."

He was slowly fading away right before their very eyes.

"I trust that you'll decide."

His eerie smirk was the last thing that they saw of him before he completely vainshed. For a minute they just stood there with their mouths open. "He vanished!"

Sora looked again at the box hat he was holding in his hands. "Whaddaya suppose is in here..." he wondered as he slowly pulled off the lid.

_Shing!_

It was a heartless!

"Wait!" Sora yelled as it dashed away. He ran in hot pursuit with his Keyblade at the ready and followed it all the way to the court.

"What in the world was that?! Mannerless scum!" the queen bellowed in her surprise.

"There's your evidence, Miss Queen! Watch out!"

The queen screamed as Sora destroyed the heartless when it was just inches away from her.

"There ya go! Still think that Alice is the culprit?" Sora stood in front of the shivering queen with his Keyblade still held out behind him. "Let her go already!"

"Now's the time," Goofy whispered as he and Donald turned the crank that lowered the cage. A nearby soldier shouted at them, but they paid no heed. The cage lowered to the ground after only a few turns, but...

"Alice!?"

It was empty.

"By Jove, she's gone! Alice has vanished!" the queen bellowed. "Stand to attention, men! The defendant has escaped and remains at large! I order an open bounty for her immediate recapture!"

The card soldiers closed in around the trio in warning.

"They look a bit agitated, don't they?"

"Ahyuck."

"Off with all your heads if you fail!" She shouted once more.

"We're moving already! Geez!" Donald groused as they all hurried away.

**0000**

And so, they were once again in that deep, dark forest.

"This whole kidnapping thing just _smacks_ of Heartless involvement..." Sora muttered. He stopped walking as he continued to assess the situation. "How did it work, though?" He asked Donald. "We haven't really seen them do anything besides attack people...are they even smart enough to do something like kidnap them?"

Donald scratched his chin. "I got a feeeling that there's something afoot...There's a chance that the Heartless are being manipulated somehow...most likely by somethin' evil..."

The head of the Cheshire Cat popped right in front of their faces.

"Wauugh!"

"Alas, having found the evidence that you sought..." the cat riddled as the trio gathered their breaths, "You now seek the defandant you lost? Poor Alice."

Sora sweatdropped as he tried to follow the cat's words. _'Why can't this guy talk like a normal person for once!?'_ "Uh...yeah...Have you seen her?"

The cat swung a little by his tail as he continued to hang upside down from the tree branch. "Nope. Negative."

A pause.

"Quit talkin' in circles, you!" Donald sputtered. He hopped up and down for a few moments in his rage.

"The cat, the culprit, and the answer do all in darkness lie," said the cat, gleefully ignoring Donald's demand. "I shall show what shadows lurk in the heart of the world..."

He lifted a beckoning finger before he hopped to the ground and stalked away on all fours. His tail was a great purplish-pinkish plume that waved to and fro as he walked. "Follow me."

**0000**

The three of them looked around in the great building that they were in.

"Wait a minute...weren't we in here before?"

"Patience, patience," said the Cheshire. He leaped on a table and held up a claw that lit up with a small flame out of nowhere. Sora took a step back.

_'Umm...what's going on here?'_

"Did you know that the closer the light, the darker the shadow?" the cat inquired.

True enough, the shadow around him _did_ seem to be growing darker...and then there was a bright flash so sudden that no one thought to blink in time.

"Have you prepared your hearts for the worst?" The cat smiled his sinister grin as the enormous fire-juggling Heartless loomed in front of them. "If not, too bad!"

"You...you tricked us?!" Donald yelled. The cat's grin grew wider.

"I trick, you say? Nay, I need not." He raised a paw to his cheek and sprawled himself on a table. "The Cheshire Cat is always here to help the weak."

The heartless threw a fiery torch at them, and they screamed.

"Hot-Hot-HOT!!!" They ran every which way in confusion and pathetic chaos.

"...It seems that you are in dire need of help," murmured the cat as he privately sweatdropped. "It is rather a miracle that you made it this far..."

He pointed a claw straight at Sora. "It is but a pittance, but I shall grant you what strength you lack."

All of a sudden, Sora no longer felt the heat of the fires that were so close to him mere seconds before. Instead he felt a calming chill that thrilled his head as he took in a deep breath. He looked down, and saw hints of blue snowflakes hovering around his Keyblade.

'_...Huh?'_

"OUCH! ACK!" Donald howled as his backside was smothered in flames.

"Donald!" Sora cried, and then his breath hitched as the Keyblade jerked backwards in his hands. It felt as though something within him was being hooked and pulled towards the very tip of his weapon. A burst of icy flakes spewed forth and headed straight at the oblivious duck.

Donald looked up as the flames sizzled and died on his backside. "Huh?" He caught sight of Sora staring at his Keyblade in wonder. "Sora, was that you just now?!"

Goofy pointed at his own backside. "Ahyuck. Would you mind putting out mine too?"

"You're the one called the 'Bearer of the Key'. It would be a true pity if you didn't know a lick about using magic, wouldn't it?" The cat was hanging upside down again as he watched them.

"Ma- magic?!"

"Sora, look out!"

He turned and saw that the heartless had thrown several torches of fire straight at them. They were somehow able to dodge them, but Sora was pissed from this near-death experience.

"Why you!"

He aimed his Keyblade at that monster and started ice-zapping as fast as possible. The heartless merely dodged the blasts. It giggles as it slapped one of the blasts toward the trio.

"Arrgh! My magic isn't working on him!" Sora struggled to get up and saw that his leg was bleeding profusely from the impact of the ice shards that were reciprocated back at them.

"Cure!"

Sora blinked and saw that the wound on his leg had vanished among a sparkle of green leaves. He turned and shouted his thanks to Donald.

The duck shouted back. "Sora, you've gotta focus! Concentrate all your power at the tip of that thing and imagine it freezing over your opponent! You've gotta focus your _heart_!"

Sora looked up at the heartless juggling right in front of him.

'_I gotta freeze... the enemy...'_

He closed his eyes for a brief moment and concentrated hard on that little hook inside of him once more. He let it reach deep inside of him to a place to where the possibilities seemed endless...

'_Gotta focus..'_

A place of power...

'_C'mon...'_

The place where his heart was.

His eyes flew open. He glanced down at his Keyblade and saw a brilliant blue cluster right at its tip. He grinned and raised it before him, aiming straight at the spindly heartless cocking its head from side to side.

"BLIZZARD!"

Sora's breath hitched in his throat again as he felt the Keyblade's tug. A whirl of blue and white ice erupted from its tip in an icy explosion and swirled around the entire room. The entire mass of ice moved to concentrate on the heartless with a froce so great that Sora's breath momentarily froze.

The heartless itself was frozen solid. It was balnced haphazardly on its legs, teetering and tottering. Soon, it fell backwards in a crash and broke into pieces.

"Yeah!" Donald and Goofy rushed toward Sora and hugged him so tight that he was turning blue from the lack of oxygen. "You did it, Sora!"

"Ch-chokin'...not...bre-"

"Ack! Sorry, ahyuck!" And they let go and allowed Sora to collapse and breathe in large gulps of air.

"Keep it down, would you?" their favorite doorknob howled. "Thios doorknob can't get any rest around here, can't he?"

"What's with that attitude, you ungrateful doorknob!?" the duck squawked. "We were just now-"

Sora ears tuned out everything as he caught sight of something in the doorknob's mouth.

'_Huh? Something was shining just now...'_

"A...keyhole?"

Suddenly a familiar jerk tugged at his heart. A bright light focused on the tip of his Keyblade and shot towards the keyhole that he saw.

"Huh?!"

_CLICK!_

"I wish to just...simply...sleep..." The doorknob's mouth closed as he drifted back to the land of Nod.

"Did you hear that? Sounded like somethin' clicked..."

"What...what was that?" Sora wondered in awe. He examined the tip of his Keyblad in his hands.

"Hey look fellers, a gummi block!" Goofy bent over and picked up something small and beady from the tiled floor.

"A gummi block?"

"It's what our gummi ships are made of," explained Donald. He too the piece from Goofy's hands. "It doesn't look like a normal one, though..."

_Clap. Clap. Clap._

"Bravo!"

The Cheshire Cat was grinning like mad. "Superb performance! Great show, that display! Your powers really do bloom true, I say!"

Sora frowned. "Cheshire Cat...whose side are you on?"

The witty feline changed the subject. "Alice is neither here nor there, or available for any occasion. She has passed from this world, to where I cannot speak..."

'_Is it me, or is that cat a little blurry on his outlines?'_

"Borne off by the shadows, she has fallen to the darnkness of obscurity..." And here Sora saw that the cat was indeed fading away.

"Wait!"

But the cat merely grinned wider and disappeared with a _pop!_

They stood there for a minute. "Darn cat..."

Sora sighed. "Well, should we just go or should we tell the queen what had..."

"Are you crazy Sora?! She said that it would be off with our heads if we fail!"

Sora and Goofy snapped to attention. "In that case, we should hurry and sneak away while we got the chance, ahyuck!"

**0000**

Sora rested his head on the railing of the ship as they sailed away.

'_We didn't find anyone after all...not Kairi, not Riku, not even the king. And then Alice had to go bye-bye on us...'_

A large clang sounded as an object made a sudden connection with his head. He knelt and moaned in pain before turning towards Donald angrily. "Hey, what the heck was that for?!"

"Stop worrying yourself, kid. Believe it or not, this ship is only able to sail if we think happy thoughts! Your depression is making this thing sink a little more into the waves than usual!" Donald then softened. "Look, Sora, there really is nothing to be worried about."

"Ahyuck!" Goofy added. "We'll find them for sure!"

Two brown shapes scampered up Sora's front and pulled at his cheeks. "If you want to live to find them, smile already!" the chipmunks cried. One of them even stuck the handle of a tiny mop in Sora's mouth and stretched his upper lip with it.

He smiled for real this time. "Okay..."

Then he dashed up to where Donald was at the steering wheel. "Here, let me steer!"

"ACK! NO, SORA!"

They were near another land mass, and Sora had grabbed the steering wheel wrong. The ship was now turning into port with a speed that could kill them if they crashed.

* * *

Winry stopped. It was dawn again. 

She turned her head and glanced at the sultan. He was now lying on his stomach with his eyes closed and his chin resting on top of his arms. He seemed to be resting in a peaceful sleep, but Winry knew that she shouldn't always trust what her eyes see.

Sure enough, his eyes snapped open a few minutes after her pause and swiveled to the side.

"...So that's it? They die just like that?"

So he _was_ listening to her story.

"No. They don't."

Some more seconds of silence passed before the sultan sighed and sat up.

"Very well."

He stood and walked towards the door, then paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I do not have to repeat anything. You know what this means," he said as he twisted the handle and opened the door.

"Wait."

He halted.

Winry heard Paninya suck in a gasp as he slowly turned his head in her direction. She could feel her own heart thumping furiously against her ribs as he narrowed his eyes, but what was done was done. She swallowed and gathered courage.

"Are you going to feed us now? Or are hoping that we will die of starvation instead?" Her voice sounded the complete opposite of what she felt, but she no intention of letting him know that. She let her eyes speak only of her bitterness.

The sultan turned and left the room without a word.

* * *

'_Ungrateful wretch. She doesn't deserve to live.'_

But he _was_ letting her live. And that just made the situation...complicated.

He ground his teeth together in frustration. She was going to die soon anyways; what use was eating going to be?

He sighed. Exactly. Having a little food wouldn't necessarily do any harm, and he knew it. His pantries and storerooms held more than enough food for twenty thousand people; feeding only two would be nothing.

He waved a hand at a passing maid with a food platter in her hands. "You. Halt."

The maid squeaked and came to an abrupt stop before bowing as low as possible with the platter still in her hands.

"Y-yes, your majesty?"

"Bring that platter to my room. Feed the ones that are in there." It was just as well, he silently noted, that he didn't lock the door this time.

His imperious dispositon seemed to frighten the maid even more. "Yes, y-your majesty." She bowed once more and scurried off to obey his commands.

Edward continued walking down the hall. As he passed the executioning room, he saw that very same executioner open his mouth to address him.

"Not today," he simply said. His footsteps never missed a beat as he crossed his arms and left the fool to once more sputter and stammer in confusion.

Two menservants bowed respectfully as he reached the baths. One of them took his clothes as he undressed, and the other poured fragrant spice into the steamy waters. They bowed once more before exiting and leaving him to his privacy.

He took a deep breath and felt his muscles ease and relax. The calm, lukewarm waters soothed him more than the sweet aroma that rose from their surface. He leaned back and closed his eyes as his worries slipped away from his mind like oil on tiling.

Here, now, he felt peace.

* * *

  
Author's Note:

I hoped you liked this chappie (I finished it while listening to Numa Numa on youtube all day long). :) Here is the info for my other stories:

**On the Account: **00 DUDE. Let me tell you the truth here- I was NOT expecting so many reviews for that little thing. Wow. Well, I'm currently typing up the next chappie, but I keep having to revise stuff. Let's just say that it's gonna have a lot of Winry. ;P

**Silver Demise: **At first I had this long thing typed out, but school and stuff prevented me from continuing it. So for a while I just keep revise, editing...and then one day during a break from math class I looked at it and saw that the whole thing was _really _cruddy. So I erased the whole thing and started anew. I know what I want in that chapter, but I'm sorta stuck on one part...(sweatdrops) Forgive me...

**Those Times: **I LOVED the reviews for this thing! I'm glad that so many people enjoyed it! But...should this really be on here? (winks)

**Please review! I need more motivation to keep going, 'cause this thing is gonna be LONG. If anyone has plot ideas, don't forget to mention them, okay? They might get added in this jumbly mess of ideas I have in my brain. ;)**


	8. Chapter 7: After the Days

**Disclaimer: Me? Own Fullmetal Alchemist? PLEASE. If I did, the ending to that movie would have been smothered in flames by now.**

Author's Note:

I will come straight out and say it, though I'm pretty sure that all of you are tired of hearing these words already:

I'm sorry.

So, this time I will add a little more to this:

I **apologize**.

Why? Because of my heinous act of _**not updating for over five months**_. For my other heinous act of leaving people hanging off the edge of a _real _dangerous cliff when I posted On the Account for the sake of updating/not updating this chapter right here. Oh, and also for not updating Silver Demise for over a year. Some good news though, if you are readers of any of the two other fics: When I finished this chappie two days ago, my ideas for Silver Demise suddenly came back like Little Bo Peep's sheep at sunset (...they did come back, right?) -is a bit unfamiliar with that nursery rhyme-. Also, my ideas for On the Account have clarified for me as well. So if any of you are readers of either of those two stories, feel free to vote on the "Which one should I update?" poll on my profile. :)

...Considering any of my readers do come back, of course. -sweatdrops- :(

I also noticed that during my LONG absence, quite a lot of people have faved /put this on story alert...wow. Thanks so much!

Speaking of thanks, I offer thanks to ALL my reviewers, as usual. My special thanks go out to...aww, you know what? **ALL** of my reviewers. You guys were so supportive and helpful and a whole bunch of fairydust in my life! I could not ask for better reviewers! -beams-

And here, my first recommendation: **Cerulean San**'s DeviantArt. Trust me, she deserves it. She is quite the artist, after all, and it would do any art-lover justice to go visit her page. :) ...What, still not enough of an incentive for you? Well, guess what: some of her pics have spoilers for this story, if any of you are interested -winks-

Oh yes, and even though I offer special thanks to all my reviewers, I would like to shine a little limelight on **Cerulean San** for some 15-minute fame here. She was really supportive of this story and helped me out when it came to getting a beta. -grins- Without her, wow...I don't really know.

Well, folks, I'm sure you heard me talk enough. From the bottom of my heart, I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter. (Plus, I once again tried to make it longer to compensate for the time I was away...don't know if I succeeded, but it's still pretty long, at least.) ;)

Enjoy! (And don't forget to review, please! :D )

* * *

**Chapter 7: After the Days**

_She peered at the beautiful shining metal, her eyes roving over it in her curiosity._

"_What is it?" she asked. She reached out a parched finger and gently slid it on a cool, slim surface. _

_Her father's strong hands gripped her on her shoulder in a grasp that she had always known as one of love. How she had loved that grasp when her dreams were fearsome or her heart was hurt._

"_That is automail, Winry," he said with a voice jovial as a bird's. He grinned down at her. "Your grandmother couldn't keep her hands off of the stuff when I was a boy, not even on days when she didn't have to work."_

_Her blue eyes fluttered up at him. "Why's that, Father?"_

"_Who knows," was the answer. "People have always been saying that my mother was at least a teeny bit crazy." His eyes reflected sadness as he stared at the automail lying in its booth. The humming noise of words surrounded them as the crowd jostled around in the bazaar._

_Winry's own eyes dimmed. She didn't like seeing her father sad. _

"_Well, what does automail do anyways?" she asked, trying to distract her father from his sorrow. _

_He glanced down at her again and smiled. "Well, you see, automail is sort of like…a limb replacement."_

"_Limb replacement?"_

"_Yeah. Whenever someone loses an arm or a leg, a talented automail engineer is able to make an automail that can replace that arm or leg so that that person can keep on living their lives. Without automail, well…" _

_Her father looked around, and then carefully rolled up his pants leg to reveal what she had never seen before- a shiny metal leg. She gasped and covered her mouth with her chubby little hands._

_However, instead of wincing at her surprise, her father's smile became gentle._

"_I wouldn't be able to walk around and enjoy life with my family," he finished._

_Winry felt tears coming to her eyes as she touched his leg._

"_Did- Did it hurt?"_

_His laughter was light. "Yes, it did at first. And it always does when it gets fixed. But Winry, listen to me-"_

_Large, rough hands encircled her smooth ones._

"_It is because of this automail that I was able to keep on living. Never forget that."_

'_Keep on…living.'_

_She looked at the automail arm among the cloths of red- almost like blood, she suddenly thought. Blood for pain. But sometimes even healing caused pain._

'_I don't want to cause others pain. But when I grow up, I want to help others live, just like my father. Maybe…maybe automail is a way I can do that.'_

_The metal arm shone in the noontime sun._

* * *

Winry slept soundly, as she often did, but Paninya was content to watch her friend in this calm state.

No matter how much she tried, her eyes wouldn't let her rest. No, it wasn't her eyes- it was her thoughts and fears.

It didn't matter that somehow Winry managed to spare their lives for the past seven days. Eventually, the sultan would have an order for two executions fulfilled.

But it also didn't matter that she herself would die. After all, she didn't think that she would be able to even dredge up the will to live after Winry's death…oh, if only it was _her_ instead of Winry who had to be his wife! Then Winry's life would have been the one in less danger, and maybe Winry would even have had the chance to escape if she was no longer around to slow her down…

Paninya bit her lip. Winry would have scolded her for thinking like this. But even if she was aware of her actions, she couldn't help but be so worried for Winry and her current situation.

Paninya sat up in a cross-legged position and squeezed the ankle of an automail leg, her features clouded. It was the sultan's fault that all this was happening.

Because of him, Winry was forced to run her throat dry each night to reminisce a story that would matter little in front of an axe blade, a story that in the end could do _nothing_ at all for them or any poor girl who came along after their deaths, even though it was that same story that was preventing their deaths in the-

Her thoughts skidded into an abrupt stop as a lone candle flared in the front of her mind.

'…_Wait a minute…'_

Slowly, a thought or a mundane thing of the sort wriggled and took form in her mind. It molded, remolded, and grew as little shoots of idea after idea breathed into it.

And with its growth came something Paninya never thought she would feel for the rest of her short life here.

True hope.

Just as she smiled, Winry turned her head a little to the side and gave a brief smile of her own, content in her dreams.

* * *

Her palms were sweaty.

She didn't know why they were sweaty. Palms usually only got sweaty because of excitement or guilt…or fear.

But this was her job. Her life's work. And while she always gave that fact the respect it was due, she never thought of it as anything to be _excited_ or guilty about.

And she had no reason to be afraid, of course. She was a servant. She was serving. Nothing dangerous, right? _Right?_

But then, if it wasn't dangerous…

'_Why am I being accompanied by guards?'_

Her hands trembled underneath the tray she was carrying, and she plastered them as tight as possible to its underside in an effort to calm herself down. Even with her eyes kept straight ahead, her mind could still see the men beside her dressed in robes of stern white cotton and a dark sash bound around a single shoulder. They walked solemnly, one on each side, and she couldn't help but gulp at the flash of the blades swinging from their waists.

Her "calm" thoughts picked up speed and whirled around her frantic brain.

Why was she the one doing this? Why did she happen along that particular hallway that day? Why? Why didn't she oversleep? Or take a different route? Or get lost for her own good or something? Why-

Why was _she_ the one who the sultan chose that day to serve his wife and her friend?

Her upper arms were trembling now, and it had nothing to do with the immensity of the tray she held in her hands. It had been seven days so far. In other words, an entire week. And his wife, who should have been gone well before the second day, was still alive and well and breathing.

Though the servants were in fact relieved about this miracle, it couldn't be said that it was expected_. _Now some of them had taken to muttering amongst themselves in the kitchen or in the hallways while working.

So far as she knew, no one was able to figure the answer to the question that they all had.

But she was positive that she did.

_The sultan's wife and her friend were genies._

She knew that the others would think she was crazy, so she kept this solution to herself. But she was right, she knew she was!

How else would the sultan's men have found two girls in one night, what with the decrease in virgins nowadays? Why else would the proud sultan have his reason for keeping them alive a secret? Why else would he keep them alive in the first place?

'_The sultan must have found a special lamp containing two genies,' _she mused as the guards walked with her up the stairs. '_And since he didn't want to make it look suspicious if anyone came by and saw him talking to two girls, they devised a plan for them to come in masquerading as his wife and future wife. Then during the night he could freely talk to them and make them grant his every wish.'_

'_But then…don't genies eventually run out of wishes to give?'_

She almost stopped walking to ponder the issue before she remembered the stiff-faced guards beside her. Barely keeping herself from stumbling from her mistake, she continued with her thoughts as a deep mahogany door rose in view near the end of the hall.

'_The sultan is very wise for his age. He's probably saving those wishes so that he can decide what exactly is necessary to make a wish on. Then, after who knows how long, he can just stage an execution of the genies to uphold his reputation as a fierce ruler as well.'_

She nodded once to herself…

Then ran smack into the door.

* * *

A rough thud ruptured Winry from her memory-scented dream. A squealing noise from behind the door was effective in fully waking her.

She glanced at Paninya, who was staring at the door with a raised brow. "What was _that_?"

The door opened with a _click._

There was the brown-haired servant girl to serve their food, as usual. And the two guards at her side were not a new sight either.

One of the men had an exasperated frown on his face as he held one side of the slanted tray, and the girl held the other side while her head bobbed around.

Ah…she must have hit her head on the door.

Winry's eyes drooped at the somewhat pathetic situation. The girl was still bemoaning her head until one of the men cleared his throat and spoke in an impatient, treble-high voice,

"It is time for you to serve, servant. Your duties are needed elsewhere."

Winry had to fight to keep her eyes from enlarging to the size of cartwheels. These men…they were _eunuchs?_

Then again, she shouldn't be so surprise. The sultan would never entrust "full" men to guard any women around the palace. He was too careful, too knowing of what was bound to happen if he did so.

He was not a man who showed trust as freely as others.

The maidservant snapped to attention and quickly deposited the tray before them.

"E-excuse my insolence, Sultana," she stammered as she bowed before Winry.

She said nothing, but she did smile, and the maidservant blinked at her with surprise before hastening herself from her presence, the eunuchs following after.

The two turned to their breakfast as another _click_ sounded throughout the room.

* * *

_Alchemy and all its attributes are all based on a single foundation: One is all, and all is one._

_This statement can be restated in many ways, yet still retain its meaning. The part is the whole, and the whole is the part. The dust is the earth, and the earth is the dust. The crumb is the food, and the food is the crumb. The bone is the skeleton, and the skeleton is the bone._

_The meaning of all these and many other restated statements of the "One is all, and all is one" concept is not easily understood, and at times even the most grown of men can lose sight of its meaning._

_The meaning is this: That because one is a part of the all, many ones, or parts, become the all. Therefore, one is the all. And since the all is composed of many of the one, it is the one. Every whole has its parts, and every part combines to make a whole. Without a part, there would be no whole. If there was no whole, there would therefore be no parts in existence._

_The one and the all are dependent on each other. Without one, there is none._

_This is not to be mistaken or twisted into the thinking that any one part has significance over the other. Each contribute to the all, and therefore each are equally important._

_It is from this concept that the somewhat more understood ideology of Equivalent Exchange-_

"Your Majesty!"

_- derives from. One is a part of the all and many ones become the all, and it is __**those ones only**__ that make up the-_

"Your Majesty! Another citizen has requested an audience!"

If the book in his hands wasn't so old, he would have either crumpled both his fists among the pages-

Or chucked it at that annoying _fool_ of an announcer.

But instead, he merely exhaled and shut his book. This was his job, he reminded himself. To do the best for his kingdom. All kingdoms consist of citizens, and it was his duty to look out for them.

'_Without a king, there is no kingdom. And without a kingdom, there is no king.'_

Each depends on the other.

That is what he firmly believed.

"Let the citizen enter," Edward ordered. He rested _Foundations of Alchemical Concepts_ on his lap and drew himself tall on his throne as the announcer bowed and departed.

A few moments later, in came a timid-looking man dressed in blue. The material of his clothes were silk, which told of his wealth, but the lack of jewels around his neck and fingers spoke of either thriftiness or humility.

'_Humility, at least,'_ mused Edward as the man threw himself upon the floor. "Rise, and speak," he commanded.

The man raised himself off the ground and clasped his hands together.

"Honorable Sultan, I have toiled and worked hard to gain my wealth. Now I am a merchant in the trade of oils from farther east, and I own much land. However, my lord…"

He lowered his eyes.

"My recent caravans, which I had invested a good deal of my fortune into, have been proclaimed lost in the deserts and mountains separating us from the lands further east. Now I find myself overwhelmed with debts and reconciliation payments, and what little I have left is slowly being consumed. I have no wife, but my children are afraid of hunger. What should I do?"

Eyes closed, Edward pondered over the situation. A merchant on the brink of losing everything. A troublesome problem indeed, though not a very uncommon one. However, this time children were thrown in the mix. That added more worries to the pile.

"How old are your children, merchant?" he asked. The merchant looked up in surprise.

"My youngest son is seven years old, my lord. My eldest is eleven. And my daughter is in her nineteenth year."

"Is she pure?" Edward inserted. His question was casual, but its true intent was still obvious.

Instead of backing up in horror, the merchant turned away in shame. "She should be, my lord. But…" he let out a dry sob. "She has recently been defiled by someone who I hope will be cursed until the day he dies."

A gasp spread throughout the room, and Edward frowned. If she was defiled, there was certainly no place for her at his court.

But then…there was a chance that…

'_No,'_ he decided. He gripped the handles of his seat. _'Of course not. She will die long before __that__ time arrives.'_

These thoughts were futile. If there was anything he knew about being a sultan, it was that he should never bank hope on uncertain outcomes.

And to his great dismay, this outcome was indeed uncertain.

"…Here is my decision, merchant."

The merchant glanced back at him, apprehensive.

"Your youngest son shall work in my kitchens. Your eldest son shall work in my gardens. As for your daughter…"

He could see the merchant holding his breath, but chose not to be irked by it. "She shall be a maidservant. And you, you shall become one of my wine bearers."

Edward leaned on his elbow and stared down the open-mouthed man. "Your children will get fed. Your needs will be cared for. And unless I myself run out of money, you shall not have to worry about bankruptcy. In return, I shall have extra and useful work done around the palace."

Stammering from the merchant. "Y-your…My lord…w-what if my caravans are not indeed lost?"

Edward thought for a moment. "Well then. I will give you time to continue watching for your caravans. If they do not reappear in two months, then you and your children will have to enroll in my service. And if they reappear while you are in my service, then you will have to repay me with a value equivalent to what I had given you until then."

The merchant hesitated, then slowly nodded and bowed in front of the sultan.

"As you wish, my lord."

* * *

He admitted being a bit grouchy when the order first came, but it was a literal case of do or die. No one refused the sultan unless he was begging for harsh punishment- and he wasn't one to beg, in any case.

So, forsaking his previous plans to doze the afternoon away, he had said good-bye to his wife and had a palanquin prepared for a trip to the palace. Of course, all his wife did was mutter the words "Be careful" before turning back to her duties around the mansion. He had smiled at that. Unlike him, his wife held a degree of responsibility that was rare to be found in most officials.

Now in front of the throne room, he was skimming his eyes over the all-too-familiar etchings on the brass doors when they swung towards him in a sudden motion.

"Ah, greetings, Vizier Mustang. Here on business with the sultan as well?"

He bowed. "Indeed, Grand Vizier."

"Well then, don't let me delay you any longer. I shall take my leave," assured the Grand Vizier with a cheery grin as he strolled away. He bowed once more, then straightened and entered the audience hall.

The first sight that greeted him, of course, was the sultan reclining with his eyes closed.

It would never cease to amuse him how much the sultan liked to lounge around on his throne. True, he sat up straight when attending to his audiences with his citizens, but at all other instances he would lie sideways on the brass chair with a leg or two hanging off a handle. The way he liked to sprawl himself around almost reminded him of a cat-

"So you are here, Vizier Mustang."

The sultan's eyes were now wide open and staring directly at his countenance.

"…This is quite the surprise. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were actually on time."

Mustang arched a brow, then gave one of his tiny smirks. "Remember, sultan, I used to say the same thing about your height."

It was as if he had used some form of sorcery. The sultan's entire form rippled and bristled in a single fluid movement, and his stare now turned into a glare that outright proclaimed that he wished he could burn his vizier on the spot. He opened his mouth to say something, but his rage was so great that he choked on every word attempting to come out of his mouth.

"Wh-! Y-! H-!"

Mustang glanced at the sultan's right hand, a snarling mass of trembling, chipped steel.

"How DARE you mention such a thing to your ruler, Vizier Mustang!" he finally blazed out. He stood and pointed a metal finger, indignation crawling over each and every feature on his face. "NEVER mention that again!"

He merely blinked, though on the inside he had erupted into laughter. This predicament used to be much more amusing when the sultan was younger and actually was short for his age. If height were ever implied in a statement directed towards him, he would burst out with an accusation that had nothing to do with the poor victim's actual words.

Ah, well, some things changed with time. For the sultan, that just happened to be both height _and_ maturity.

The sultan huffed, then seated himself upright on his throne, re-clothing his automail arm with a long black sleeve as he did so. He cleared his throat.

"You do know why I called you here, correct?"

Mustang bowed to him as he replied. "My assumption is that you want to question me of any progress on my…duties."

Another huff. "What else?" was the snide retort.

"Well, I also assume that you won't be happy to know that I have had far less success in my findings. My apologies, sultan, but it appears that the Grand Vizier is far more talented in this aspect of our duty."

"Don't give me excuses, vizier."

He rose and saw the sultan gazing at the sunlight streaming through one of the windows, his crisp eyes fastened on the approaching sunset. The man had assumed another one of his sprawling positions again.

"I happen to know from my sources that you had delayed a full week before setting off on your most recent search. It appears that you had been…'caught up' in your duties by another one of your serving women. Or was it actually your wife this time?" This time Mustang found himself pinned by eyes that held a mixture of questioning and contempt.

He sighed, as though admitting defeat. "You know me perfectly, your Majesty. Forgive me for the delay. I couldn't resist, you see…"

"Pathetic, Vizier Mustang. How can a man possibly be so captivated by women?"

"The same way your new wife has captivated you, I presume."

The sultan stiffened, then frowned at his vizier. His fists had resumed clenching themselves again.

"I assure you, vizier, that that woman has not captivated me, and she neverwill. My reasons for keeping her alive until now are strictly the opposite of whatever you may be _presuming_."

That last word had been spat out with such venom that for a moment it had seemed tangible in the air around them…but then the sultan took a deep breath and it was gone.

A wave of the hand. "You are dismissed, Vizier Mustang."

The vizier bowed once more, then left, a slim smile covering his face.

* * *

His face betrayed nothing as he meandered towards the staircase at the end of the hallway. Each of his guards bowed respectfully as he strode past them, but he merely kept his gaze focused ahead of him.

His thoughts spoke of everything opposite his apathetic demeanor.

'_The outright insolence of that vizier! If he hadn't performed faithful service under my father himself-'_

Edward grunted then. He trudged up the staircase step by step, both fists clenched at his sides.

'_To even __indicate__ that I may be attracted to her in the slightest! Who does he take me for, a fool? No, __**he**__ is the fool!'_

He squeezed his metal fist tight as possible, as he often did when he was truly ang-

But then he gasped and paused at the top of the stairs. Just that moment, when he had tightened his right hand-!

Edward retightened his fist, and bit down hard on his lip as he felt it again- that painful twinge creaking straight up from his metal elbow and into his shoulder.

He sighed. Didn't the repairman attend to his automail arm a little over a week ago? Why was this happening again so soon?

"Looks like the repairs fell short," the sultan muttered to himself. Almost every day he reminded him that having automail limbs was a serious handicap when there were precious few who had even an _inkling_ of the basics of automail repair.

He decided to let the matter go for the time being as he reached the door of his room. All he had to do was keep from clenching his metal fist so much, and he could do for a while without repairs. It wasn't that hard…well, as long as he could control his temper.

Edward sighed, and then noticed something strange.

His wife wasn't in her usual spot on the bed. Instead, she was huddled on the carpet with her little friend. What were they…

He narrowed his eyes.

"What kinds of things are you whispering about over there?" he coolly demanded as the door slammed shut.

He became even more suspicious when they both turned wide eyes to his, and his glance darted from one to the other before resting on his wife.

"Well?"

His wife frowned and folded her arms.

"Is it a crime to whisper around here?" she demanded. She stood in front of her friend, as though protecting her from his angry disposition- which for some reason, made him even angrier.

"It is a crime," he paced out, "when there are things occurring in the sultan's palace without the sultan himself knowing of it." The fury he held at bay bled through his voice. "Now, what are you two plotting? _Tell me_."

"What makes you think that we are plotting anything at all?" Each word that flowed out of her mouth rose in volume. "Is everything I do something to be suspicious about?"

Edward drew himself up to his tallest and looked down his nose at her.

Did she really ask that? _Hah._

"What a foolish question," he intoned, his voice frigid and cold. "Of _course_ it is."

Her eyes flashed, but she said nothing, so he assumed that he had rendered her speechless. Satisfied, he moved towards the bed.

"You're right. That was a foolish question."

He stopped in his tracks.

"You will never trust me, and I will never trust you," she stated matter-of-factly, and this time he found himself speechless. Regardless of his previous decisions, he clenched a fist.

The problem was not that she was right.

The problem was that he now lacked the opportunity to make her eat her words.

* * *

The Keyblade was pulsating fiercely in his grip, but he hardly noticed it. All he was aware of was the cold sweat trickling down his back, the hairs standing and rising on his neck…

And the realization that as of a couple of seconds ago, _everything_ had gone wrong.

"YESSS…!"

That's right, yes.

"**THIS** IS THE POWER I WAS SEARCHING FOR!"

They were all totally scr-

"Kree!!" chattered the monkey behind him in a sudden panic. Sora whirled around.

"Abu, what's the- _ack_!"

In one fluid motion, he grabbed the frightened primate and leaped away to avoid a crash from a smoldering boulder.

Things were definitely not good. Now that that creepy Jafar had turned himself into a genie, he was redecorating the whole place to look like some messed-up inside of a volcano. Aladdin and Genie were somewhere around here- away from all the lava, he hoped- but all this red smoke was making it hard to see. And just where was Goofy and Donald?

'_Not good. Not good!'_

"Hah!"

Sora looked up as a flurry of wings flapped somewhere over his head and moved away. Great.

It was that annoying parrot.

"You annoying little do-gooders are in for it now!" it jeered. It dodged a little debris while hovering in the air. "No one can stand against Jafar!"

It was all Sora could do to keep from using a Fira to roast the parrot and leave him to the nonexistent fishes swimming around them.

But then…

'_Wait, what's that?'_

He squinted at an object the bird was holding in its claws.

"Hey Jafar!" the bird cawed as he continued flapping around. "What do I do with this thing? Hey! Jafar!"

…Okay, _now _things were looking up.

He took a deep breath, then steadied himself. There was nothing but lava underneath where the bird now hovered in the air, but if he timed this right…

A hop, skip, and a jump took him off of safe ground.

For one terrifying second he was falling towards death and flame, and then his Keyblade made a nuzzling motion in his heart and reminded him with a whisper of what he must do _now_.

"Blizzaga!"

His heart jerked- or did it leap?- and from his Keyblade spewed forth deep blue crystals and ice shards that froze the air surrounding them. He reached out and grabbed at the lamp in the bird's claws as he crashed into ice-hardened lava.

"Get away from me you cheapskate! Let go!" The parrot was straining and flapping his hardest, but Sora kept his grip and knocked him out with the hilt of his Keyblade.

"Well that was easy," he remarked as the bird fell limply to the ice. He clutched the item to his chest and looked around for Donald and Goofy.

'_Where are they?'_

"AND NOW YOU ALL ARE GOING TO BE HISTORY!"

"Found them," Sora muttered to himself as he caught sight of four figures trying their best to crouch away from the mad genie. He stepped forward and raised his prize.

"No, _you_ are history, Jafar."

Jafar twisted like an unwound screw, indignation and mockery scrawled all over his monstrous red features. "WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU SCRAWNY FOOL?"

Given the circumstances, Sora pointedly ignored the insult to both his brain and brawn. "You heard me. Get back into your lamp, Jafar."

For a moment nothing happened, and he feared that _he_ was the one who was history after all. But then a strange, sucking noise sounded from the lamp, just like the one he and Riku and Kairi used to make when draining the last of their strawberry smoo-

"NOOOOO!!" Jafar screamed as a large swirl of air encircled him. "THIS CAN'T BE!"

The doomed genie's hands scrabbled around as his smoky underbody was drawn into his new shiny home, and Donald scrambled away with a surprised _"Quack!"_ after narrowly escaping a choking grab. Then Jafar's hands landed on something that made Sora consider the whole thing kind of ironic.

His little henchman.

Still a bit unconscious, it stirred at first, then jolted awake and tried his best to fly away once its foggy bird brain realized what was happening.

"No! Jafar! I didn't want this! Let me g-!"

The lamp clamped shut, and Sora felt a searing slash of white-hot fire shudder throughout his hand.

"Guess the henchman always gotta go where his master is, huh?"

"Sora!"

That was his only warning.

"_Oomph!"_

"Gosh, Sora, we all thought you was a goner! We're so glad you're safe!" Goofy exclaimed as he hugged Sora. Sora, on the other hand, felt far from enthused- just smothered and two inches from death.

"T-that's…great…"

"Lay off, Goofy! He looks like he's going to die!" Donald yelled, and Sora was dropped to the ground in one swift exhalation.

"Whoops. Sorry about that."

He gasped for air as he stood up. "No, no…it's…it's fine, Goofy."

"You guys alright? Sorry about the whole attacking you and stuff, but I really couldn't help myself," Genie remarked as he zipped around each one of them in turn. He zoomed around Aladdin. "What about you, ole buddy o' mine? Feelin' any stitches? Bruises? Any of those annoying back aches?"

Aladdin smiled at Genie's antics. "Nah, everything's alright."

Genie slowed. Donald turned, and Sora and Goofy each gave a doleful look of their own.

They could all tell that his smile was wistful and fake.

"It's about Jasmine, isn't it?" Sora asked, his own voice quiet. Aladdin nodded.

"Where could Jafar have taken her?"

"It's ok, Aladdin. Even if she is on another world, I'm sure she'll be alrigh…" he trailed off.

Why were Donald and Goofy looking at him like that?

"…What?"

_Wham!_

"_Ow!_" He clutched the side of his head. Tear droplets of pain welled up in his eyes as he looked at Donald, who was scowling with a wing outstretched. "What the heck was that for?!"

"You idiot!" the duck raged. "You just now broke one of the most important rules of world traveling! _No interfering!_ Why I outta-"

Goofy came over and clamped a firm hand over Donald's beak before things could really get ugly. "Well Sora, what Donald really means is that you gotta be more careful. Dangerous stuff happens when you interfere, you kno-"

"Take me to this other world!"

And only now did Sora realize the extremity of what he had done.

'_Oh, __great__…'_

"Please! I'm begging you!" Aladdin pleaded. Now Sora had the uncomfortable feeling that the guy was about to go down on his knees. "Jasmine could be in trouble!"

"Uh…" The Keybearer shifted, awkward. Then, with his eyes on the ground in front of him…

"I can't."

Aladdin said nothing, but whether it was from shock or pain Sora didn't know, and he didn't think that he wanted to. "I mean…in times like this…well, what I mean to say is…um…"

He took a deep, shaky breath. "Taking someone into a world that isn't theirs…isn't something that I'm allowed to do."

Aladdin cast his eyes to the floor, and Sora swallowed- hard. "I'm sorry," he wanted to say, but he knew that those words would be pretty much meaningless right now.

"Hey Al, don't be so down!"

Genie swirled around Aladdin's shoulder and held out his brass lamp. "You still got one wish left, pal! All you gotta do is wish for Jasmine to be back where she belongs- right here!" Everyone fixed him with a pitying look, but his grin widened. "Aw, shucks, don't worry about me, you guys. I don't mind staying in this lamp for a few more centuries. I need to clean up the place anyways…"

Aladdin took the lamp in his hands, and his mouth curved into a grin that seemed more tired than relieved. "Yeah Genie, you're right."

"Genie…I wish for your freedom!"

Genie, who had certainly been expecting an order that would require his time-spatial abilities, had to force himself not to snap a second too soon. "Al…?"

That was all he could manage to say before three whirls of yellow-orange light encased his wrists and smoke-tail. The lights whirled and expanded and engulfed his entire form, and everyone around him heard a _click_, like a door being opened or shackles being unfettered.

In a burst of light, out popped Genie, complete with unshackled arms- and _legs_.

"Why did he do that?"

* * *

Winry closed her mouth and stared.

The sultan, for the first time since the story began, had just now asked a question about it.

A million thoughts raced through her head. He was asking a question about her story. He was…curious. That _must_ mean that he cares about it, and if he does then Paninya's plan may actually…she held that thought as she sneaked a glance at her friend, but found to both her surprise and dismay that she was asleep.

"…Why did he do what?" Her voice was unsure, hesitant. She dryly noted that this was probably the first time she tried talking to him in a civil manner.

The rustle of bed sheets alerted her to his movements, and she heard a short, impatient sigh. "Isn't this one of those cliché stories where love supposedly conquers all?"

His wry comment, mixed with his bored voice, struck a flint edge somewhere. He was now sitting upright on the bed with an expression that, in her mind, was asking for a confrontation.

"What do you mean by 'cliché'? Is there something wrong with love being victorious?" She frowned at him What kind of person hated love?

To her chagrin, he smirked. "Looks like my grand vizier found me not only an uncouth wife, but a naïve one," he commented to himself, though Winry could hear his words as though he had shouted them all over the room. "Was your world so sheltered that you never knew the truth?"

"Sorry for being so unknowledgeable, _dearest_ sultan," Acidic sarcasm dripped off every word. "What exactly is this 'truth'?"

The sultan's smirk widened. "The truth is this: Love is not life." When he saw the confusion spread across her face, he leaned near her, as though to clarify what he had just said. "Love is _lies._"

That last word rolled off his tongue like a large spider crawling onto her hand, and for a moment Winry found herself unable to breathe.

She regained her bearings and shook her head. "That's not true."

A scoff. "Either you are in denial, or you are more stupid than I had thought you were. Are you this new to how marriages truly are formed?"

"I know perfectly well that a lot of marriages are arranged, but that doesn't matter. Many of them turn out to be nothing if there is no love involved," she insisted, her voice stubborn. "In the end, it is love that decides the success of a marriage."

"What you are speaking right now is completely unfounded," the sultan just as stubbornly answered. His smirk was gone, and what was left on his face was the expression that one often has when trying to convince another of a theory or idea or opinion. "Marriage is not about love, it is about duty."

This time, it was Winry who scoffed. "_What_ duty? I never knew that marriage was a job. After all, you certainly don't get paid for it."

She saw him clench his left fist as though he had wanted to grapple her right then and there.

'_Let him try.' _

"What I mean by duty," he gritted out, "is that if I told you to stand there and _strip_ yourself, you would have to do it." He pointed a finger at some random spot in the room, but Winry was only paying attention to his face, her eyes wide and unbelieving. "Why? Because it is part of your duty as my wife."

It took only a second for Winry's jaw to _drop_. She found herself so choked up that words refused to let loose.

"Y-you pervert!" That was all she could say, but she didn't stop there. She reached and jammed a finger onto his nose as painful as she could.

"Mmph!" The sultan jerked back and held his nose, but Winry didn't see or smell any blood, so she assumed that he was alright. He lowered his hand and yelled, "How dare you!"

"I'm sure you would have done far worse, had I said the same thing to you."

She braced herself as the sultan opened his mouth…

…Only to see him halt as though he were a metal gear that had run out of use.

Wait…

_Metal._

Winry watched in horror as this time, she _did_ see blood.

It was dripping from the shoulder of the arm that held his automail, the arm that he now held to him as he gnashed his teeth in his pain. The arm that from first glance, she knew was far from satisfactory for a man his age.

For a second, Winry didn't know what to do. Then years of automail work came flooding through her mind and instincts, and she moved over to his side.

But before she could touch his arm, he shoved away and threatened her with a burning look.

"Leave me alone," he growled. Another twinge of pain must have beset him then, for he squeezed in his arm even tighter to his side and grunted.

Contradictory emotions bubbled within her. Despite everything, she was still a little…concerned about him. She chastised herself for it, but she couldn't help this feeling.

She was never able to ignore the pain of someone carrying automail.

"Are you deaf? _Go away_."

But even if he did need her help, he wasn't making it any easier for him to receive. Fine then. If he desired no help, she had no business trying to force it on him in the first place.

"Suit yourself," she declared, frustrated. What was she thinking, anyway? She had no obligations to someone she hated. She flung the bed sheets over her head. _'And at least the story isn't over yet,'_ she decided with an ironic bitterness.

The last thought she had before she drifted off to sleep was one of guilt.

* * *

The awful smell was the first thing that he noticed when he awoke. It penetrated his nostrils and made him cringe at the thought of exactly how much blood he must have spilled to make his surroundings smell so vile.

When he fully opened his eyes and sat up, the second thing he noticed was a hand that quickly drew away from his arm- a hand a bit too small to be his.

A sudden shift brought his wife into view, looking guilty as a common thief.

He jumped off the bed. "What the hell do you think you are doing!"

He made sure to conceal his metal arm as he moved further away from her. Angry eyes roved to examine her blood-stained hands and clothes. "Don't touch me!"

She fumed and put her hands on her hips. "Don't _touch_ you? Pardon me for saying this, but I never before heard of a husband who could bear to refuse the _touch _of his wife!"

Edward ground his teeth in response. No one was supposed to touch him. No one was allowed to see him in any moment of weakness. And no one was to ever, _ever_ imply that he may be…

He stormed out of their room, slamming the door in his wake.

* * *

Paninya found herself breaking out of sleep. What just happened? What was she doing just now?

The sunlight made her eyes squint as she sat up.

…_Sunlight?_

And then gasped.

"Paninya? What's wrong?"

Her shoulders sagged in relief. So Winry was okay. She didn't die…and their plan still has a chance of working. She grinned and got to her feet. "Mornin', Winry. Sorry for sleeping, I couldn't hel-"

Words clogged in her throat. What happened?

"Winry…why is there blood all over your clothes?"

A brief flash of anger flitted across her friend's eyes before she bent her head to examine the mess that covered her front. "Well…I don't think you would ever believe this, Paninya…but…"

She waited.

"I…fell and cut myself this morning. On my thigh. I think it was another of those pins or something, I don't really know how it happened…" she kept listening, but didn't pay attention to anything else that was being said. She knew what this meant.

Winry was hiding something- or trying to, at least.

"Winry, what are you-"

_THUD._

They both jumped in startled fright as the door banged open. However, standing in the doorway was not the sultan or the maid who brought them breakfast, but rather two old maidservants. After a moment, they both bowed to Winry, and one of them beckoned to her.

"This way, Sultana," she said. Quiet and demure, her voice seemed gentle enough to calm the birds. "The sultan has requested that we take you to the baths." As though offering proof, the other maidservant revealed a starched white towel.

"What?" he friend breathed. Paninya agreed in her silence.

"This way, Sultana," they repeated, and with small gestures managed to lead Winry away. She gave one last, unreadable look over shoulder as the door slammed shut.

And Paninya was left all alone.

* * *

Edward was leaning to one side, his hand balanced on his chin, as the man beside him tinkered with his arm. He flinched as he felt painful twinges in his shoulder, but other than that he kept his face as blank as ever.

"…I do hope that you know what you are doing, Fuery," he deadpanned. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man stiffen and straighten his glasses.

"Yes, Your Highness," the man mumbled as he maneuvered a couple more wires near the shoulder blade. "This repair should keep your arm in good working order for about two more weeks at the most. However, I advise you to rest this arm as much as possible, Your Highness."

"Hm," was the reply. He had heard this advice before. However, he always tended to use it as though it were a _real_ arm, an arm that did not need to adhere to such limitations.

'_That woman…'_

He furrowed his brow in thought. Indeed, his wife's actions concerning his arm were a bit strange.

The first time he had willingly showed her his arm, she hadn't acted afraid. Instead, she had merely gazed at it, as though…confused. But confused about what? Why would she be confused about him having an automail arm? Surely she saw it attached to him on the first night they met…

Was she confused about him displaying it? No, that couldn't be it. Maybe she was confused about…the quality of his automail, perhaps?

Yes, that was a much more probable solution.

But then…why would she be confused about its quality? He had paid good money for this automail, and they assured him that they offered the best in this region for someone of both his age and stature. His previous automail was made by an exceptional automail worker, but as of a couple years ago it proved to be too small, and Dominic's whereabouts by then were unknown. He had had to settle for a lesser-known automail worker who had assured him that this replacement would be good and sturdy for the next few years, so long as someone handy enough was around to keep it in working order from time to time.

Of course, the man could have been lying to him and taking advantage of his embarrassing naivety when it came to the automail field…but if he did, he was already safe in death.

But back to the matter at hand- why would she be confused about its quality? It is not as though she knew whether automail could look any better…

Or did she?

Edward blinked as it all started making sense. Her concerned face last night. Her rushing to his side, as though she could actually help him; moreover, her explicit invasion of his privacy this morning, as though she were inspecting something…

"Everything's done, Your Highness. Don't stretch it out too much this time," he heard Fuery comment as the man bent over to pack his tools. The sultan stayed on the couch he was lounging on and stood up only when the man left the room.

He glanced down at his automail hand, chipped and rusted and with a few dry flecks of blood and oil still on some of its fingers.

'_Could it be?'_

Could his wife actually know more about automail than most of the men in his palace?

He didn't exactly know when, but…soon. Yes, soon.

Soon, he would find out for sure.

* * *


End file.
